


crossing boundaries

by ethestral, Tigerine (sealink)



Category: Granblue Fantasy (Video Game)
Genre: Last (optional) chapter is NSFW, Lord of Tsunderes Aglovale, M/M, Painfully Oblivious Siegfried, Pining, Roleplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-15
Updated: 2020-01-18
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:20:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 31,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21782080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ethestral/pseuds/ethestral, https://archiveofourown.org/users/sealink/pseuds/Tigerine
Summary: Percival's capture at the hands of mysterious anarchists has brought Feendrache and Wales together for a joint rescue mission. Siegfried, who is traveling with the crew after recent events, has once again found himself face-to-face with the Lord of Frost Aglovale, Percival's older brother and the man he had once stopped from destroying his own kingdom.
Relationships: Siegfried/Aglovale (Granblue Fantasy)
Comments: 14
Kudos: 83





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a completed roleplay between myself (Siegfried) and Tigerine (Aglovale). The original formatting of the roleplay has been retained, with some minor revisions to improve end readability. In keeping with the roleplay format, this work has a skin that colors Aglovale's text and thoughts in **blue font** while Siegfried's remains in **black font** , so please be cautioned that many text transitions may seem abrupt without the skin enabled.
> 
> The fic has an overall rating of 'Explicit' due to the final optional chapter containing NSFW content.
> 
> Spoilers for the side story Between Frost and Flame and the SIEGFRIED event.

The Grandcypher was leaving the desert island of Mephorash when the crew received a letter bearing the royal seal of Feendrache, inviting them to stay in the kingdom for a few days. Shortly after their arrival, Lancelot and Vane were quick to greet them at the castle gates. It hadn't been five minutes before Percival and Vane were at each others’ throats, while Lancelot wasted no time in recruiting Siegfried for a day of training with the Chickadees. Percival, after clearing his throat, announced in his usual dismissive tone that he was making a detour without the crew to survey Wales’ status.

“What kind of king would I be if I didn’t know when to let my dedicated vassals rest?” Percival crossed his arms and sighed, sensing Gran and Lyria’s concern. 

“Don't worry. This is nothing like the last time I went to visit Aniue. Enjoy yourselves while you have the time to relax. I will be back well before you even begin to prepare for departure.”

The first two days passed without incident. By the third, everyone began to wonder whether something had gone awry _en route_. Knowing Percival was far too responsible to not have sent word about a change in plans, Siegfried was already on his way out to scout Wales alone when a Feendrache messenger arrived, out of breath and clutching a piece of parchment in his hands.

“Your Majesty, I come bearing a letter that we received this morning. Unfortunately, it is as Captain Lancelot has feared.” Out of the corner of his eye, Siegfried could see Lancelot and Vane tensing up immediately. “The anarchist group that has been ransacking our villages has claimed responsibility for the disappearances of a number of Feendrache subjects as well as people from Wales." The messenger hesitated.

“In addition… they have also claimed to have captured and subdued Sir Percival.”

Lancelot seemed unable to speak, his eyes wide. Beside him, Vane nearly dropped his poleaxe in shock.

“N-No way! Percy got captured by those guys? We gotta save him!”

“For even Percival to get caught up in this mess…" Lancelot spoke quietly, fists clenched at his side. "I’m sorry, everyone. If only we had dealt with them earlier…!”

“Lancelot. Worrying about the past will get us nowhere.” Siegfried stepped forward, kneeling in front of King Carl. “Your Majesty, I am sure you understand we have little time to spare. If even Percival has been captured by this group, I fear they may be too powerful for Feendrache’s knights alone.” 

“I understand, Siegfried. He may no longer be a knight, but Percival will always be a part of Feendrache.” King Carl’s voice was as gentle as ever, but there was a serious edge in his words. “With Percival and the people of Wales involved in this incident, I suggest that you travel to Wales and cooperate with King Aglovale, as I am sure he will be deeply concerned with this turn of events. I have full confidence in you, Captain Lancelot, Vice-Captain Vane, and the skyfarer crew to bring him and our subjects back. 

“Send word to King Aglovale of Wales about their arrival at once.” He waved his hand at the messenger, who immediately bowed and hurried out of the room.

They quickly formed a rescue party consisting of Gran, Vane, and Siegfried, while Lancelot volunteered to stay behind to bolster security around the kingdom’s villages. On the morning of the next day, before the sun’s rays even crossed the horizon, the crew boarded the Grandcypher and set off for Wales.

Being a king entailed a great many responsibilities. Aglovale was chiefly concerned with expanding both the hard and soft power of his country: exporting not just economic and military might, but culture and ideas. In his ruthless quest for Wales to become a 'shining city on a hill', he neglected to notice some rats lurking in the shadows. 

But he showed no signs of frustration or anger, even when his spymaster brought him word that Percival had been captured. The claims that Percival had been 'subdued' he'd initially taken as dubious; Percival was too proud to allow anyone to subdue him. But hours passed and no word came of a conflagration on the border. Something was amiss. 

What _he_ would do if he were a brigand in this situation is ransom the prince. For all their claims of not needing a king, of wanting to live simple lives on their own, small fry like this only ever had coin on their minds. But Percival cooperating with the brigands by not turning them into a pile of cinders complicated things. His spymaster hadn't managed to get any information about this particular group, so who knew what was going on in their camps. 

As usual with 'complicated situations', sooner or later the captain of the Grandcypher showed up with his ragtag band of soldiers. Invariably, when something arose between Wales and Feendrache, _that man_ would come along with him. It was impossible to miss him standing on the deck, black armor that gleamed darkly even in the sunlight, seeming all the darker for standing next to two brightly shining puppies like Gran and Vane. 

Aglovale met them at the skyship docks not far from the castle, a grim set to his jaw.

After the Grandcypher was securely moored to the skydock, Siegfried hung back as Gran and the others exchanged their brief pleasantries with Aglovale. After all, he was technically no longer part of the royal forces and perhaps even should have left this incident well enough alone; it wasn’t ideal to have them rely on Siegfried for every little matter befalling Feendrache. But this was no longer a small matter if even Percival couldn’t handle his aggressors.

For all that had happened thus far, Gran and Vane were shocked by how coolly Aglovale seemed to be handling the situation. In fact, this was Siegfried’s first time seeing Aglovale (that he could remember, anyway) in a situation where he wasn’t a crazed, desperate man ready to sacrifice his life for foolishness. But he recognized Aglovale’s hardened gaze on the crew, the way his hand curled tightly around his sword’s pommel. He was carrying himself as if nothing was going on, but underneath his kingly stature Aglovale was on edge. Siegfried had seen it all the time at King Josef’s side. 

Vane filled Aglovale in on the current situation, how the anarchists had kidnapped villagers from both countries, how Percival left several days prior and went missing prior to the arrival of that letter. Siegfried felt no need to interject at the time, merely watching his reactions. Though he didn’t believe he would ever endanger (or even falsely endanger) the life of his younger brother, Siegfried couldn’t completely deny the possibility of this being another one of Aglovale’s plays at gaining regional power.

As a king, Aglovale always had to project strength and competence, even if he had his own doubts about the situation. He winced inwardly as Vane spilled all the spymaster's hard-won intelligence out in broad daylight on the docks, where anyone could hear it. Subtlety wasn't Vane's strong point. But Vane's agitation over Percival's kidnapping was obvious. At least in this matter, Aglovale could leave the recursive worrying to him. 

Regardless of how special Gran was—and even Aglovale couldn't deny there was something uncanny about that young man—the only one he remotely viewed as an equal in the group was Siegfried. Despite paying attention to Gran and Vane, he never quite took his attention off of the former Captain of the Black Dragons.

"Come," Aglovale said, gesturing to the carriage he had waiting for them. "We should finish this discussion in a more private setting.”

As they traveled through the capital city, the group was treated to the sights and sounds of the boisterous capital. Merchants hawked both local goods and imported wares from distant islands and skydoms as townspeople crowded the marketplaces and restaurants. Though the mood was subdued overall, Siegfried couldn't help but notice how Gran, Lyria, Vyrn, and Vane looked outside with mild wonder. The bustling activity outside was certainly very different from the last time Siegfried was here gathering intel; even Feendrache’s largest open air market seemed miniscule compared to the ones here in Wales. Aglovale had wasted no time in turning his kingdom's welfare around on a dime. 

Within the carriage, Siegfried sat directly across from Aglovale. He took the short reprieve between the docks and the castle to meditate, closing his eyes and steadying his breathing while still remaining aware of his surroundings. Even without looking, he could feel the coldness of Aglovale's stern gaze falling on him from time to time. Siegfried briefly wondered with amusement whether Aglovale made attempts to keep tabs on him specifically; as close and as involved as they were, Feendrache was still a foreign country with their own political agenda. Not that his constant wandering would have made it easy for them to track him, and when he did notice a scout on his trail, Siegfried could easily shake them off by routing them through monster-infested areas.

Aglovale's spymaster had indeed been tasked with 'monitoring' the Dragonslayer, primarily to keep his nose out of Aglovale's affairs near the border. Siegfried's wild rambles were well-known; he frequently came near the border, although it was unknown if he crossed into it. Magical wards weren't sufficient—and Aglovale suspected that dragon blood might have made them ineffective or inconsistent. 

No, for Siegfried, he'd wanted a personal touch. So it wasn't just one spy. An entire _network_ of eyes-and-ears was devoted to tracking Siegfried's movements all over the skydom. After all, if there was a foreign man at risk of exploding into a draconic rage, his whereabouts needed to be known. When he was near the border, Aglovale spent days on high alert, demanding reviews from his spymaster morning and evening. 

There was no hint of the power sleeping in him now. Aglovale pointed out the rebuilt infrastructure to the wide-eyed captain and his party, but his eyes occasionally traced over the black armor, cataloguing dents and scratches, trying to compare them to his memory to see if Siegfried had acquired new ones.

Siegfried slowly opened his eyes as he felt the rattling of the carriage crossing over the cobblestone-lined bridge to the castle. As he did, he caught Aglovale staring at him, and that stray thought from earlier crossed his mind once again.

"Forgive me if I have shown any disrespect to Your Majesty." Siegfried briefly bowed his head, hoping he hadn’t offended Aglovale by appearing to be asleep. "It seems we have nearly arrived."

Aglovale hadn't intended to be caught staring, he'd just noticed that those were definitely tooth marks on Siegfried's vambraces and was going to offer the services of Wales' superior armorers to take care of it. Siegfried's words took him rather by surprise, but Aglovale could only muster a smile. "No offense taken. It's been too long since you've come to visit my kingdom." 

The carriage slowed in front of the red carpet leading up to the main entrance of the castle. Every surface was pale gray marble, gleaming white in the sunlight. Aglovale got out of the carriage first, his armor dazzling and blond hair shining, looking every inch the wizard-king of Wales. He strode up the red carpet without waiting to see if the others were following him. He assumed they were. 

Once again, Siegfried let Gran and Vane take the lead in following after Aglovale, while he allowed himself to bring up the rear. It was an instinct at this point, a better vantage point to both survey the group in front as well as to cover any threats from behind. Despite its shining exterior meant to impress and display Wales’ wealth, Siegfried paid more attention to the castle's defenses. Guard towers, perfectly arranged to neutralize threats coming from any angle. The bases of the castle's outer walls sloped to make it difficult for intruders to approach. Even as they passed through the castle's main gates, he felt the slight shimmer of several layers of magical wards that most likely protected the castle from a majority of projectile and magical attacks. No doubt Aglovale had a hand in designing most of these, but when did he install them? Siegfried didn't remember the castle being as heavily fortified when he confronted him last.

Then there was Aglovale himself, marching down that bright red carpet with every ounce of self-confidence he would expect out of Percival's older brother. Siegfried smiled to himself. Despite their brief conflict, it was clear how much Percival cared for his own family and it showed with how much he modeled his mannerisms after Aglovale's... Though hopefully, Aglovale was the more responsible of the two and _not_ the source of Percival's habit of saying one thing and meaning the opposite.

Aglovale had _in fact_ fortified the castle to protect against incoming airship attack, specifically the airship of that upstart captain behind him. To a king, skyfarers who didn't pledge allegiance to any particular nation were little better than pirates, prone to changeable moods. So although he felt in his heart that Gran was a good person and wouldn't attack Wales directly, the cautious part of him did not want to see a repeat of the attack on his castle. 

That the castle now included various wards against magical beasts—dragons specifically, in the runic fine print—had to do with the Dragonslayer himself. Hastily installed, they were designed to dampen dragon magic. Any dragon on the grounds would find itself taxed to keep up the attack. 

Aglovale was keen to see what the dampening fields would do to Siegfried's dragon blood, purely from a wizardly, academic point of view. Aside from fatiguing a dragon attempting an attack, they _should_ make Siegfried’s draconic bloodlust easier to control. But seeing as how the test subject had only just shown up, there was no way of knowing what would happen. Aglovale raised his hand, ready to deactivate them if he heard distress behind him. 

It happened all at once. Vyrn, who had been flying just behind Lyria, made contact with the dragon suppression field first. He immediately began to wobble and nearly crashed into the floor, but Siegfried quickly stepped forward to catch him. As he did, he felt the telltale sensation of passing another magical barrier. The instant he caught Vyrn in his arms, Siegfried stumbled forward and nearly fell before righting himself at the last moment. Gran, Lyria, and Vane immediately turned around at the sound of the commotion behind them.

"Vyrn... Are you okay?" Siegfried found himself struggling to push the words out of his mouth.

"A-Are you alright, Vyrn-san?" Lyria said, rushing over to Siegfried's side to take a look.

"Th'was weird... felt dizzy 'n all of a sudden I couldn't even fly straight 'nymore," Vyrn replied, looking dazed as his words slurred together. "Room's still spinnin'..."

For Siegfried, their voices sounded muffled and their silhouettes became blurry. Every motion he made felt like he needed to resist some unseen force pushing him down into the floor. His uncharacteristic loss of balance went unnoticed by Gran and Vane, but even through the haze clouding his mind he began to put two and two together. Whatever was affecting Vyrn had also affected Siegfried as they crossed the same point in the room—though to a lesser extent for him—and no one else seemed to be affected. 

Anti-dragon fields were in widespread use in Feendrache before, but the royal mages had ceased maintaining most of them ever since Siegfried helped suppress Fafnir years ago. He wouldn't have had the opportunity in the time since to set foot near one, much less after recent events had set his dragon's blood alight. Nevertheless, Siegfried understood that Aglovale was all but justified in having such defensive measures in place; after all, he had been and still was a danger to both Feendrache and Wales. He sighed and furrowed his brow slightly, trying to grasp at the words he wanted to say. Failing that, Siegfried looked up at Aglovale, not with anger but with understanding and resignation. 

Aglovale's ears had been keenly attuned to the clink and clank of Siegfried's armor, so when he stumbled, Aglovale knew in a flash. His fingertip moved through the air, finding the magical beast ward and powering it down. It had taken him a full day of setting up sigils and amplification glyphs to make it magically sound in the first place, but he now had some proof that his particular bespoke sort of ward worked. 

It was surprisingly hard, even for a wizard-king, to find information about how to simply suppress, rather than exclude, a dragon. Most mages would neither have permitted nor desired a dragon in their home. Exclusion was the smart option to avoid being incinerated or swallowed whole, both of which tended to make research difficult. The special case that Aglovale had in mind had no precedent that he could find, so he'd had to develop the magical theory for dragon-dampening from scratch. 

Aglovale's eyes passed over Vyrn to Siegfried. He saw that look in Siegfried's eye, the slight wrinkle in his brow, and met his gaze boldly. _It's good that he knows this was for him. He won't underestimate me or Wales._ A smile touched his lips once the ward was completely gone. 

"Apologies," he said, turning in place to wait. "You arrived so quickly that I had not had time to go through the inventory of warding magic surrounding the castle. I won't let it happen again." 

"Warding magic?" Vane cocked his head to the side. "Is that what's making Vyrn act all loopy?" 

"Yes, Vane." Siegfried felt a little more clear-headed as soon as Aglovale lifted the suppression field. "I sensed we had passed more than a few defensive barriers on the way in. One of them must have caused Vyrn to feel ill." He looked down at Vyrn, who seemed to be feeling better but still accepted a worried Lyria's offer to be held the rest of the way in. 

There was no need to mention how he had been affected by the barrier as well; it would only have caused the others to fret over him and there were far more important things to worry about. Though he was assured he wouldn't suddenly transform again, Siegfried was actually thankful Aglovale had thought to set up defensive wards against him. He met Aglovale's gaze once more and gave a small, nearly imperceptible smile.

Aglovale, primed to look for Siegfried's response to the ward (from a purely practical level, to make sure the magic worked), wasn't expecting a smile. From his viewpoint, compared to the usually composed and taciturn knight, a smile was essentially flashing a grin at him. It might be an acknowledgment of his skill as a mage—Siegfried wasn't a mage, so that was out—or a thank you? Should a man with dragon blood thank him for this? 

Well, he _had_ gone out of his way to make sure that none of the wards included pain as an effect—you would be surprised to know how many wards did include pain as an immobilization method—so maybe that was what Siegfried was so pleased about. Regardless, the sight of Siegfried's ghost of a smile made it impossible for Aglovale to commit to any one response from the four or five currently fighting to be the one that got expressed. 

He couldn't waste time on this, there were preparations that still had to be made. Aglovale blinked a few times and then turned to continue walking. "We have much to do and not much time to do it in." 

The smile that briefly crossed Siegfried's lips was already gone. "Of course, Your Majesty. I apologize for the delay." The rest of them now followed Siegfried down the castle corridor. Vane leaned towards Gran and the others, trying hard to keep his voice barely above a whisper.

"Hey... I know he's the king of Wales and all, but couldn't he have cared a little more about how Vyrn was feeling? It was kind of his fault." Vane glanced ahead at Aglovale's back with a sour look.

"Ahaha... Well, he is Percival-san's older brother..." Lyria looked down at Vyrn. "He's very stern, but I'm sure Aglovale-san meant well when he apologized earlier."

 _Did he?_ Now that Siegfried's mind was clear again, he ran through the possibilities. The fortifications in place could merely have been newer additions, safeguards Aglovale had the resources for now that Wales’ economy was flourishing. The anti-dragon field, however, was assuredly meant for Siegfried and Siegfried alone. Was it just a precaution since Aglovale had witnessed how much of a threat Siegfried could be when he lost control? Was it because he anticipated Siegfried penetrating the castle defenses if Aglovale’s plans had gone awry? But if that were the case, he wouldn’t be so careless as to leave the magical field active when the group was visiting on the pretenses of cooperating with Wales, nor would he have designed a barrier that did nothing to keep Siegfried out but merely slowed him down while he was inside it.

...There just wasn't enough information right now. 

Frowning, Siegfried let himself be content with watching Aglovale's silhouette as he strode through the castle, the long tresses of his blonde hair swaying in time with the martial click of his heels against the marble floor. Once again, he found himself seeing King Josef in Aglovale's conduct, the way he carried himself with the same regal air. But where King Josef reserved the warmth of his kindness for those quiet moments Siegfried spent with him in the royal gardens, he sensed that Aglovale surrounded himself with a coldness, similar to but fundamentally different from King Josef’s aloof demeanor towards his subjects. It wasn’t to project the image of a strong leader—it was to maintain a certain distance from everyone, and Siegfried felt Aglovale was more than happy to keep it that way.

Aglovale led them to a series of chambers just off the throne room. Each set of double doors was opened in front of him by armed guards, and they stood to the side with their polearms at the ready. In fact, nearly every guard was bristling with armament, a testament to the fact that even though Aglovale appeared to be at ease, he was extremely on-edge. 

The last room was one with no windows and very thick walls; the guards shut the doors behind them. The wards here were fairly serious, containing the standard proof against magic as well as practical ones like structural anti-crush protection, and fire extinguishing magic. Several maps of the border were laid out on the table and weighted down with small sandbags, with border towns already marked on either side and red ink in place to note smuggling routes. These appeared to be the best strategic maps of that area that Wales had, which Aglovale always kept out. Several small black tokens on either side of the border seem curiously placed...

Or they did until Aglovale pushed them away with his gauntleted hand, and picked up a sheaf of papers and a handful of small gold tokens. 

"I won't delay with niceties. The situation is as you described, with one small additional piece of information." He put a small marker on a town on the Feendrache side of the border. "Information from Goodwick Village said that Percival passed through here and showed a friendly attitude toward one of the children there. According to a baker who overheard the conversation, the child then indicated that there was a problem with monsters in Llanberis Village, which is here." He put another gold token on the map, but this one was some distance to the north, almost as far away from the castle as the border. 

Aglovale looked up at the assembled group before picking up a gold plated tape measure from the table and feeding out the tape between the two points. He compared it to the scale, and then— "A distance roughly a day's travel away on foot." He let the tape snake back into the roll with a snap and looked up at Vane, and then at Siegfried. "I don't think I need to tell you that there have been no reports of monsters in Llanberis Village. But it leaves nearly a quarter of the breadth of my kingdom to search." 

Siegfried traced a finger from Goodwick Village to Llanberis Village, pausing as the line between them crossed the border. "If Percival encountered his assailants prior to crossing into Wales, they would've used one of the smuggling routes nearby in order to evade the border guards." He scanned the geography, trying to match it up to his memory.

"Given the lack of additional information from Llanberis, it's safe to assume the enemy never intended it to be their final destination. That helps narrow down the possibilities. Either they've gone into the Lusatian mountains up north, or farther west towards these villages." Siegfried tapped his finger on a small cluster of settlements. "An operation large enough to hold villagers from two countries hostage is bound to leave tracks everywhere." 

Vane perked up. "Oh, I got it! We can go ask them whether they've seen anything weird going on, or if they might've even seen Percy around!"

Siegfried nodded. Coming up with elaborate battle plans was never Vane's area of expertise, but he was always quick to catch on and adapt. 

"I can search the mountains. Vane, you should head to Goodwick and try to track down the child Percival was talking to. Gran, your crew can be in charge of gathering information from the western settlements." Siegfried looked up at Aglovale. Those black map markers from earlier hadn't escaped his notice, but he made a mental note to quickly survey those areas on his way back in case Aglovale was up to something. In fact...

"If I may, Your Majesty," Siegfried said, inclining his head slightly, "the investigation of the mountains would go faster if the two of us traveled together. I apologize if this is not to your liking, but as you said before, we are short on time." It was best not to leave Aglovale unattended until Siegfried was sure he had nothing to do with this incident. If anything happened while the two were alone, Siegfried was sure he could handle it.

Vane's expertise with cooking or Lancelot-wrangling (or whatever it was that he specialized in) might have been a virtue, but Aglovale doubted he could approach the finesse or return-on-investment of a well-trained spy. Aglovale didn't hate Vane, but there was only so much of a large, energetic golden puppy he could take before he started looking for ways out. _Well, whatever. Maybe he can cook something that smells good and draw those starving dogs out of hiding._ Crazier schemes had worked before. 

But Siegfried, it seemed, trusted him completely. 

Aglovale would have to spend several more months after this waiting for Siegfried to go a-rambling again so that he could put the black markers in their places in the locations he'd stayed. It was strictly a matter of understanding where Siegfried spent his time, and then alerting the garrisons nearby that they should be ready for anything. 

So it was difficult for him to hide his shock when Siegfried suggested they go together. Of course, combined they would have more than enough power to deal with any smugglers or brigands they ran into. While Aglovale did have an almost encyclopedic knowledge of his kingdom, he was not a tracker, so Siegfried's notorious skill in moving undetected and finding signs would definitely be an advantage. Maybe... he would even reveal the locations on this side of the border that he liked to stop in. That would make the map of Siegfried's movements easier to complete once Percival had been recovered and the anarchists dealt with.

What a rare opportunity! Aglovale leaned back from the table and unfastened one of his gauntlets, pulling off the glove underneath. He slipped a gold signet ring with a beast rampant off the middle finger of his hand, and then offered it to Gran. "This should help if you get stuck." 

Then he flashed a smile at Siegfried that might have been a little smug and tugged his glove back on. "It is as you say. We shouldn't delay." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alternative summary: In which Lord of Tsunderes Aglovale has fallen head-over-heels for Oblivious Siegfried and spends almost 20,000 words trying to win him over


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As a reminder, this chapter has been retained in its original roleplay format. Aglovale’s thoughts and dialogue are in **blue font** while Siegfried’s remains in **black font.**

They agreed to reconvene at a halfway point between Llanberis and the border the following morning to discuss their findings. Siegfried stayed back as the others wasted no time setting off for their respective destinations. As the door shut with a heavy thud, Siegfried sighed softly, allowing some of the tension from his shoulders to dissipate. Giving orders to a group like that was mentally draining, especially since it had been a long while since his time as a captain. 

Siegfried met Aglovale's gaze, quickly pushing his other thoughts aside. He seemed awfully content with something, but about what, Siegfried didn't know enough to hazard a guess. 

"I am sure you were in just as much disbelief as I was when you learned Percival was captured." Siegfried shifted, folding his arms across his chest. Knowing Aglovale, he’d most likely brush aside Siegfried’s offer of empathy, but it was just as much an extension of Siegfried’s concern as it was a way to gauge Aglovale’s reaction.

Aglovale picked up his gauntlet and was prepared to stride out with everyone else when he spotted the fact that Siegfried hadn't moved yet. Perhaps he wished to discuss more advanced tactics that Gran and the others didn't need to know about. Aglovale wasn't an experienced outdoorsman, but he knew a thing or two about moving across the countryside. 

But he wasn't prepared for watching Siegfried physically deflate in front of him. His concern showed on his face, although it looked more like a scowl. Had the anti-dragon field done too much to tire him? 

But then Siegfried crossed his arms over his chest and spoke about Percival. Since it was just the two of them, he didn't have to mince words in front of the puppy and the upstart captain. 

"Yes," he said, straightening his shoulders. He slipped his gauntlet on and began to fiddle with lacing the straps back over his vambraces. "Percival isn't one to go quietly. It was hard to believe that he could be captured. I delayed acting because I… presumed he would have no problem fighting his way out." 

_Finally_ he got one of the leather laces to go through and pulled it snug against the armor. "But no word came of a fire or a fight, so I had to adjust my understanding of the situation." He got the other lace through and pulled it snug before moving back to the first. 

"I believe he is working with the anarchists, for now. I do not know what he's uncovered, but he must have a reason for not taking them apart where they stand." Aglovale struggled with the smaller buckles; he simply didn't have the fine motor control while wearing a gauntlet with his non-dominant hand. Well, no matter, he'd have someone else do it before they left. 

"I see,” Siegfried said, nodding. “I had also come to the same conclusion." Aglovale didn't spill all of his emotions and concerns about Percival—but then again, Siegfried hadn't expected him to. 

"Percival always had the interests of the people above all else. Even as vice-captain of the Black Dragons, he always took the time to help innocent civilians who were endangered by our battles." He was certain Percival had been forced to go quietly due to a hostage situation, which would complicate their rescue efforts. However, Siegfried also had a nagging suspicion there was something else preventing Percival from escaping his captors. Without anything to substantiate his concerns, he kept quiet.

Siegfried had been lost in thought for a moment before he caught himself staring at Aglovale fiddling with his leather straps. It might seem patronizing to assist him, he reasoned, but a small urge pushed him to walk to Aglovale’s side.

"If I may?" Without hesitation, Siegfried leaned forward into Aglovale’s space to help secure the smaller buckles, feeding the straps through the loops with practiced dexterity. Siegfried had immediately noticed while approaching him that he was surrounded by a palpable chill, almost certainly a reflection of Aglovale’s proficiency with his ice magic. He remembered from his time leading the Black Dragons that Percival had a similar habit of emanating heat around him. Something about finding a small idiosyncrasy in Aglovale’s otherwise icy demeanor made Siegfried suppress a small chuckle as he smiled, hoping the way his hair fell around his face would hide it.

Aglovale felt no small measure of pride at hearing his little brother praised by Siegfried. He may have even puffed out his chest a little bit and lifted his chin. _As expected of a prince of the kingdom of Wales, always keeping his subjects in mind, moving to protect his vassals._ If anything untimely should befall Aglovale, he was certain that Percival would be up to the task of ruling Wales. 

He was so inwardly congratulatory about Percival that Siegfried was inside his guard before he knew it. But instead of backing away, he froze in place, taking a half-second longer to process Siegfried's words than he usually would. 

He offered his supinated wrist, exposing the buckles. "Thank you," he murmured, too preoccupied with not looking at Siegfried's hand on his forearm or the shine of his chestnut-colored hair as it fell to obscure his face. He didn't see Siegfried's smile, but he hardly needed to, feeling a tingle of excitement race down his spine. He shivered slightly, and tried to mask the movement in the flexing of his metal-plated fingers once Siegfried made the buckle snug. 

It was neither too tight nor too loose. "It's easy to tell that a man like you lives in your armor," Aglovale said. 

It was kind of a compliment. Sort of. 

With Aglovale’s apparent approval, Siegfried straightened up, though he made no attempts to leave his side. He caught traces of a blush spreading through Aglovale's cheeks and nose. Was he embarrassed by being unable to tend to his armor himself? Whatever the reason was, Siegfried couldn't help but find the mildly distressed face Aglovale was making amusing and endearing.

He looked at his gauntlets as he curled his fingers around his palm. "Initially, I also found it challenging to handle smaller objects with these," Siegfried said, gesturing to the clawed plating protecting his fingers. "But at this point, my armor is like a second skin to me." 

He tilted his head slightly. Ever since Gunther roused Siegfried’s dragon’s blood, the aftereffects—his heightened senses, his improved ability to sense dragons—had lingered long after the alma had resolved his sudden transformations. When they first greeted Aglovale at the skydocks, Siegfried had noticed a faint scent, traces of a summer garden carried away on the breeze. Now that they were alone, Siegfried could pick out what he had smelled before: the scent of rose petals, alluring and blooming in deep scarlet like the luster of Aglovale’s irises. But it was mixed with something icy and glacial, reminiscent of the deep frigid snows of Feendrache’s harshest winters. And did he also smell… strawberries? Without realizing it, Siegfried had instinctively leaned towards Aglovale's face.

The fact that Aglovale had an entire field of strawberries stripped, cooked, distilled and combined with roses for his personal stock of triple-milled soap was not well-known, given that they were grown on the king's land and the soapmaker was bound by royal warrant. The notes of ice were purely due to Aglovale's ice magic and skin chemistry meeting and marrying with the scent. Though anyone who bathed in the palace would be provided one of these fine soaps scented with the early summer of Wales, it only smelled like this on Aglovale. 

Aglovale had been freed from the spell of Siegfried's hand on his arm, but the comment Siegfried made about a 'second skin' had him thinking about how Siegfried might move or behave differently outside of his armor. Combined with how Siegfried was drifting slightly closer, Aglovale's mind was already beginning to turn in certain directions. He cleared his throat and stepped past Siegfried, his cheeks still faintly pink. 

The door swung out and Aglovale issued his commands. "Guards! Have my horse made ready, and the black charger made ready for Siegfried!"

A footman nearby sprang into action and ran down the corridor. 

Siegfried blinked as his mild reverie was broken. He turned to follow Aglovale down the hall, silently reviewing all of the information about the incident in his mind—the missing villagers, the child who misled Percival, the assailants and all of the routes they could have taken as they crossed into Wales. But his thoughts kept shifting, finding their way back to Aglovale instead. His ruby eyes, the sweet scent of strawberries, his flushed cheeks...

Siegfried quickly cleared those images out of his mind. This wasn't the time. He had to be sure Aglovale had no part in endangering the people of Feendrache.

They soon arrived at the stables. By the time they stepped foot outside, the stablehands already had Aglovale’s majestic white steed saddled and ready to depart, while Siegfried’s mount stood a few paces behind. He quietly approached and reached out his hand, wanting to acclimate his horse to his scent, but it gave a loud whinny and shied away, stamping its hooves. He had to entreaty the stablehands in several attempts at quieting his horse until it seemed willing to let him climb into the saddle. Siegfried frowned, recognizing that recent events were probably going to make issues like this a more regular occurrence. 

Aglovale watched dispassionately as the massive black horse he might have had specifically purchased for Siegfried shied away from him. A muscle tensed in his jaw; clearly there was more work to do with this bloodline to reduce its spiritedness. Warhorses were given to fancy footwork and quick reaction time on the battlefield—he'd assumed that Siegfried would need such a horse if he was ever in Wales and needed to ride. Perhaps something more sedate might be better for him. He would have a talk with his breeder. 

He was on the verge of bringing down the anti-dragon field again to suppress Siegfried's dragon blood when the horse uneasily accepted the weight of its rider. They made a beautiful, if terrifying, picture: gleaming black armor, massive black horse. Anyone who saw that on a battlefield would sink to his knees and begin to pray. 

"You should visit more often, Siegfried!" Aglovale said, lifting the reins and turning his horse toward the gate. "He'll get used to you faster." 

And then he dug his heels into his horse's belly and started out the gate with a trot. 

_Visit more often._ What a curious choice of words, seeing as Siegfried’s exile saw him frequently disregarding the border between Feendrache and Wales. One of the reasons he had volunteered to sweep the mountains was because he spent many days and nights evading patrols, losing them in the rugged elements. If any anarchist group had their base here, the cliffside caverns made ideal hideout locations, winding deep into the mountainside before opening up into large subterranean cave systems. The surrounding woodlands were also teeming with monsters—more than enough to dissuade most people from approaching the area. 

Aglovale set a good pace for Siegfried to follow. It wasn't an hour before the capital and its surrounding coalescence of towns gave way to rural expanses of grasslands and plains. The mountains loomed over the horizon to the northeast, great ivory peaks expanding into ashen bases surrounded by forest. Siegfried gently urged his horse and pulled up to Aglovale's side. 

"Aglovale. We'll be able to travel most of the way there on horseback, but we'll have to disembark before venturing further in." Perhaps it was because he was outside of the castle walls, feeling more comfortable outdoors and with a mission to complete, but Siegfried had forgone formally addressing Aglovale in favor of his usual direct approach.

Oh, if Aglovale had only known! His men had spent countless hours "patrolling" the wilder parts of Wales, getting lost in the forests, losing horses down ravines, all kinds of misadventures in search of The Rambler, as he was known to the spy network. His spymaster had to change captains of these patrols every quarter so they didn't quit. 

Aglovale had to restrain himself from pointing out the new public works he was doing in the area—Siegfried wasn't here for a tour—and as a result, his horse was ready to slow down when Siegfried pulled up next to him. The sound of his name in Siegfried's voice sent the hairs on the back of his neck prickling. He wasn't scandalized or offended, but he was forced to sit up and take notice. Recovering quickly, he nodded in agreement with Siegfried's statement. 

"We can tie our horses off, but they might be noticed if we just leave them in the middle of the forest." Aglovale mused out loud. "A village might be a better place to leave them and continue on foot." 

Siegfried nodded. "There is a small village half an hour's trek away from the edge of the forests. I know a shortcut that can get us there more quickly." 

With two sharp clicks of his tongue Siegfried pulled ahead of Aglovale and swung off the main roadway into a thicket of trees. He figured Aglovale probably wouldn't be so agreeable to taking a detour through areas where monsters were more likely to appear, but he wanted to make sure they had made it into the forests well before sundown, when the darkness would bring the more aggressive beasts out to hunt.

Siegfried led them down a small, disused path in the thicket, long overgrown with shrubs and weeds. The traders that once walked this path to save time on their travels had stopped using it because of a nearby centiwatcher nest. Unsuspecting passersby, not trained to look for telltale signs of centiwatcher poison, would accidentally expose themselves to the toxins and fall violently ill. Fortunately, centiwatchers weren’t too territorial and left the two men on their horses well enough alone, and Siegfried made sure to carefully maneuver his way around poison deposits he spotted on the ground. It was a short time before the thicket cleared and the village came into view.

If there was ever a time that Aglovale might have feared that Siegfried the Dragonslayer would attack him, it would have been far from the main road, deep in a forest, surrounded by monsters, when no one knew his location. But he didn't feel endangered at all. With the slower pace the narrower, overgrown trail demanded, it felt more like riding for pleasure. His good mood persisted even when they passed the telltale thin bark and melted mushrooms showing that centiwatchers were in the area. But he did urge his horse forward, following Siegfried closely. 

The village was small, and they were the only two outsiders; even the traders likely only came here once a fortnight. They left their horses with the blacksmith and began to walk into the forest on foot. Aglovale had the habit of walking to a place and standing there for some time as his retinue prepared to follow him, which led to him standing at the entrance to the forest for a moment and staring off into space. 

The sun shining overhead told Siegfried that they would probably only have another few hours before darkness set in. The tall treeline would make it all too easy for them to get lost. At least the wind was calm today, but Siegfried knew that climate conditions could change rapidly once they reached higher elevations.

Siegfried was so preoccupied with his mental preparations that he nearly walked past Aglovale, who seemed to be in some sort of daze while staring up at the mountains. Siegfried approached him from behind, but it was second nature to him to move without making much noise, even in his heavy armor. He gently placed his hand on Aglovale's shoulder.

"Aglovale? Are you alright?"

Aglovale stiffened, jerked out of his reverie as much by Siegfried's touch as by his voice. He knew it was only his imagination—it had to be—but he thought he felt his skin warming under Siegfried's touch, even through his armor. What a foolish idea. "Ah, yes," he said, rolling his shoulder to get Siegfried's distracting hand off of him. "I was thinking that it had been many years since I was up in the moors, even though it's some of our most beautiful countryside." 

His eyes still had a bit of a far-off look, which he shrugged off and began walking. He didn't say that there's little need for a king in the heath and heather, but he didn't have to: Siegfried's presence in the moors made that clear enough. Aglovale's reach didn't extend to the wildest parts of his country, as the presence of both Siegfried and the anarchists attested. His main goal in avoiding the moors was not to abandon his duties as a king, but as a recognition of his own failings. There was nothing he loved more than to build and correct, but doing such on the moors would destroy them. 

His eyes slid to Siegfried as they walked. He watched the other man move through the underbrush with ease and skill, which Aglovale could barely keep up with. It's true for many wild things, that trying to possess them will unmake them, he thought. And with a resigned sigh, he put his back into the hike.

There was virtually no path to follow through the trees, but Siegfried recalled there were several smaller creeks that fanned out from one larger stream originating deep within the mountains. In the bushes, he found tracks from a small group of ammonoideas. Knowing they didn't stray far from water, it wasn't long until the sound of running water told Siegfried they were heading in the right direction. Because the risk of encountering monsters was so high, Siegfried avoided the water’s edge and chose to continue their trek parallel to it, following the sound as the ground gradually sloped upwards and the trees grew thin.

Before long, they reached a rocky hill that steeply inclined towards a plateau. Siegfried was willing to scale the rocky terrain, but he couldn’t assume Aglovale had the ability to follow him safely. However, the sun was beginning to disappear into the treeline, and finding another path around would take too long. 

Without hesitation, Siegfried climbed onto a nearby boulder. "We need to reach the top before sundown," he said, extending an open hand towards Aglovale. 

Aglovale stared at Siegfried's open hand as if he was being offered a centiwatcher flan. Pleasing to the eye, sweet, undoubtedly enticing, but also probably poisonous. Some part of him suspected that despite his attempts to conceal his passing, entirely innocent, definitely not prurient, interest in Siegfried, the other had already figured it out and was using it to tease him by touching him every chance he got. 

And Aglovale did have a tendency to not be able to think clearly when he was in close proximity with him. Not what they needed right now—for the thirtieth time since they entered the woods, he reminded himself they were on a _rescue mission._ Percival _should_ be able to fight his way out but he wasn't, for some reason, and Aglovale had to assume the worst, that he needed assistance. Not a king or a brother who let his mind be clouded with extraneous thoughts. 

So he took Siegfried's hand and lunged up into the rocks, determined to scale the outcrops so quickly he would not need help from Siegfried again. His pride (and probably his sanity) depended on it. 

Siegfried let Aglovale forge ahead, content to follow his lead as they picked their way through the rocks. It was rare for his thoughts to be straying as frequently as they were in Aglovale's presence. And yet, staring at the back of Aglovale's regal silhouette, he felt an idle fancy winding its roots into his mind. Thoughts of visiting Aglovale in the darkness of night, of quietly sitting beside him and drawing comfort from a hand tucking locks of hair behind his ear.

Percival had once told Siegfried the story of his older brothers: Lamorak, the mischievous middle child, and Aglovale, eldest son and heir apparent to the throne. Once inseparable, their mother's death and the grief that followed in its wake would eventually lead their lives down separate paths. It was the death of his parents, the loss of his brothers to time, the yawning void that drove Aglovale to such desperate ends just to see his mother's departed spirit once more. Siegfried had recognized the brink Aglovale once stood on. It was the same edge Siegfried had nearly crossed, ready to throw away what little remained of his humanity for strength, had King Josef not found him and turned him onto the path of knighthood. Both he and Aglovale had once lived solitary lives, and in those dark periods, that solitude had nearly driven them down paths of no return. If there was anyone able to truly stand at his side and accept Siegfried with all of his flaws, it was Aglovale. 

Aglovale had gotten away from Siegfried in his haste, nearly twenty feet above him and balanced precariously in the rocks jutting out from the mountainside. Siegfried's eyes widened. Aglovale was putting his foot in a crevice that wouldn't possibly support his weight. 

"Aglovale! Watch out!"

Aglovale was going too fast; his greaves weren't suited to mountain climbing, and he wasn't taking his time finding good footing before putting his weight forward. Couldn't risk needing Siegfried's help again, or else he'd be in the same awful position of feeling guilty for wanting to linger in his hold. 

He reached for a hand-hold, and it wasn't secure, but at this speed, he was going to be moving on before it was a problem. But then the rock his foot was on teetered and pitched. His gauntlets scrabbled against the rock with the shrill, sickening sound of scratching metal, and then he lost his grip.

In a desperate, instinctual attempt to stop himself from falling, ice magic shot out from his hand to try to fasten him to the cliff face. But he was too far back already; it fired uselessly in the air, a cloud of ice crystals that caught at nothing at all. A helpless noise escaped him as he fell backwards. 

Immediately, Siegfried braced his knees and caught Aglovale in his outstretched arms, but the force of the landing sent both of them tumbling. He shielded Aglovale's neck and head as best he could, curling around him protectively as rocks and debris flew past them. They landed together in a heap, Aglovale still embraced tightly in his arms. Siegfried grit his teeth and coughed weakly, wincing at the deep bruises he was going to have later on his shoulders and back, but at least nothing felt broken.

"Are you alright?" Siegfried looked down at Aglovale, shaken but not much worse for wear. In fact, Aglovale was staring at him with a bewildered expression, child-like in its innocence. Siegfried couldn't help but start chuckling as the ice crystals from earlier settled on top of them like a gentle snow flurry.

Aglovale curled in on himself, though his pauldrons made it nearly impossible; one blow to them set his bones buzzing. When they finally stopped moving, he opened his eyes—when did he close them?—and looked up into Siegfried's handsome face. Siegfried was still wincing a little, his hand still pressed against the back of Aglovale's head. 

"I'm not hurt," Aglovale said, although his voice sounded soft and unsure, reminding him of his younger self, when he'd been the one who had to protect his younger brothers. By some miracle Siegfried didn't appear to be seriously hurt; he was even smiling at the last of his ice magic. But Aglovale couldn't resist reaching up to push his brown hair back from his face, looking for blood or injury. Small snowflakes settled in his brown hair, giving him the look of a man caught in a blizzard, and for an ice mage, there was scarcely anything more attractive. His fingers curled in Siegfried's hair, and his lips parted again, but not to speak. Aglovale's eyes closed and he leaned up, his fingers pulling Siegfried down to meet him. 

And then he couldn't lean forward any more. One of Siegfried's pieces of armor was wedged between his pieces of plate armor, jerking him back into place like a safety belt. It kept him from perhaps overstepping his bounds and actually kissing the man who'd likely just saved his life. 

Sheepish, and with a heavy blush on his cheeks and nose, he sagged back into Siegfried's arms, looking away from the failed kiss. "I—... _Wales_ thanks you." 

Siegfried froze when Aglovale swept aside his hair, felt his heart race when Aglovale closed the distance between them. Despite all of the reasons he could list that a relationship between them could never work, his imagination was running wild with ideas. How easy it would be to pull Aglovale into his arms, meet his parted lips with a kiss of his own. But his armor—of course, his armor!—wrenched him back from his reverie. 

It would never happen. Aglovale was a king, and Siegfried just one of many knights of a foreign country. Even if Siegfried considered Aglovale a kindred spirit in their experiences, it was inconceivable that Aglovale would ever lower himself to seek Siegfried's affections. He scowled at himself.

How far his emotions had dragged him down, if he was even imagining the possibility that Aglovale would kiss him.

Siegfried focused on separating the two entangled pieces of armor, then slowly pulled the both of them off the ground before stepping back. "There's no need to thank me. I was only doing my duty." Siegfried's hardened gaze only briefly glanced at Aglovale before looking back up the incline. "If you're ready, we have to continue on."

Aglovale couldn't keep an absolutely crestfallen look off his face at Siegfried's scowl. Had the threat of a kiss from him been so upsetting as to merit that kind of response? Clearly he'd misinterpreted the closeness he'd felt (or thought he'd felt) from Siegfried, and could only find the fault with himself. Imagine a king wanting to kiss a knight like Siegfried, a living weapon who threatened his kingdom. He'd almost committed the greatest betrayal to his throne and his family, and for what? A pair of soft, smouldering eyes and a voice that could melt butter?

He took stock of his armor, hiding his obvious hurt in inspections of his pauldrons and chest plate. The size of his pauldrons had helped Siegfried protect his head; one of them was crunched in like a piece of paper, and the other had a deep dent in it. There was also a crease in his chest plate where they'd bounced off another rock. He would have to have them completely remade; reforging wasn't an option. Aglovale reached up under the pauldrons and fiddled with the buckles, letting them drop to the ground with a clank. There was no need to carry dead weight. 

"Your duty is to Feendrache, not to me." Aglovale fluffed his hair out, letting it fall straight down his back. "Consider it the appreciation of a foreign king. If you'd like, I can make a gift to Feendrache to make clear my gratitude." There wasn't any need to mince words: Siegfried knew his position as well as Aglovale's. It didn't make his rejection sting any less, but the only way to handle that was to re-create the distance that had been removed. 

Siegfried bristled at Aglovale's words. What was he supposed to do, let him die? Helping with requests for funds to support his country was one matter, but to equate saving Aglovale's life as something that needed to be repaid in money felt like Aglovale spitting on his ideals, on King Josef's memory. On any other day he would have just brushed it off, politely refused—but Siegfried's bitterness at himself from earlier boiled over, the gravel crunching loudly beneath his feet as he turned around.

"Don't _ever_ think," Siegfried growled, eyes narrowed at Aglovale, "that my honor as a knight of Feendrache would allow me to stand by and watch a needless death."

After a long moment, he closed his eyes and sighed quietly, turning back towards the slope. 

"...I've repaid my debt to you for saving my life then. There's nothing more to say." 

"Your honor as a knight?" What about his honor as a king, who had to make right every transgression that Siegfried had made public? Who had to bitterly accept the chance to atone? Whose heart in the fullness of time filled not with bitterness but sincere gratitude for his country and his life? Siegfried’s chivalric ideals alone had saved Aglovale and spared Wales a power struggle. And from that root, something tender and vigorous grew that thrilled him and terrified him. "If there is one thing that is beyond reproach, it is your honor as a knight."

In front of him was a man who was the only one who might be his equal. Even yesterday, Aglovale had fantasies of how he might garner the interest of such a man, but those lay in tatters. He was supposed to work with someone who clearly loathed him and everything he stood for? They still had his brother to find and save. He was at his limit in dealing with this mission, this man, and this mountain.

Aglovale stepped forward, gathering ice magic in his hand. He made a plane of ice anchored in the rock, and shards of ice to serve as steps up to it. He wasn't going to risk scrabbling up this unstable pile of dirt without something he knew, something he could trust. When he reached the landing, he made another one, and another set of stairs up to that one. 

Then he looked at Siegfried, still trying to master his wounded heart. His eyes were as cold and unfeeling as rubies. 

"Just to be crystal clear, Siegfried. Know that there is nothing that I can do to fulfill my obligation to you. I will owe and repay you for the rest of my life, for whatever _that_ is worth to you." 

Aglovale went up the next set of stairs and made another. _Let him climb this mountain whichever way he wants._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aglovale: *drop’s a box of tic tacs* aaahhh my tic tacs! theres tic tacs everywhere. *bends over seductively to pick up tic tac* *bends over seductivel


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As a reminder, this chapter has been retained in its original roleplay format. Aglovale’s thoughts and dialogue are in **blue font** while Siegfried’s remains in **black font.**

Siegfried followed behind Aglovale, the sound of crackling ice trailing each heavy footstep as he made his way up one step, then another. Aglovale hadn't exactly put any effort into making the platforms look nice, but they seemed more than sturdy enough to not shatter under their weight. 

It was almost laughable how they'd gotten to this point, neither man wanting to speak to each other for the rest of the climb. Siegfried was rarely so overcome with anger as to lash out at someone else, and certainly never on a mission as important as this, when even a small distraction could jeopardize everything. For Percival, and for all the innocent lives at stake, Siegfried couldn't afford to lose his focus. He pushed down the doubts gnawing at him, the memory of Aglovale's cold gaze and the wounded expression he hid underneath. 

As they reached the top of the hill, Siegfried walked past Aglovale to inspect something on the ground. His eyes narrowed. Two sets of footprints wound further into the receding treeline, not more than a day old. With the daylight fading overhead, Siegfried turned back to look at Aglovale and urgently motioned with his hand before venturing further in.

Aglovale wasn't sure if Siegfried was going to follow him, but after a few flights of stairs, he heard Siegfried's greaves crunching on the ice crystals. He'd made the steps hearty enough to withstand their armored weight and then some, so they wouldn't risk a repeat of falling down the mountain. Focusing on magic helped him get control of himself as well, hiding his raw emotions behind an icy, distant attitude.

He wasn't exactly taxed with the magic use, but he was feeling a little strained by the time the ice stairs were no longer necessary and the slope leveled out. He made a throne of the first rock he found that looked comfortable enough to sit on without getting his cape needlessly filthy. He just needed a moment to recover himself. 

No such luck. Siegfried had already found something, and his quick hand movement didn't leave any room for delay. Aglovale got up heavily, nowhere near as brisk as he'd been at the bottom of the cliff, and walked over to Siegfried. But without the tracking skills that Siegfried had, all he could do was follow Siegfried's retreating back in absolute silence. 

Before long, they had followed the footprints to where the trees opened into a barren clearing. Siegfried ducked behind a bush and gestured for Aglovale to do the same, then pointed directly ahead. Two men clad in light armor stood guard in front of one of many cave entrances tucked into the side of the cliffs behind them. Several other brigands were shouting orders and tending to various boxes and crates lined along the ground, seemingly destined to be carried into the mountains.

No wonder Siegfried thought it strange that they hadn't encountered anyone else on their way here. The anarchists were most likely utilizing an alternative pathway in and out of the mountains, traveling through the subterranean waterways that emptied into the surrounding plains. The footprints he'd followed to this place were probably from patrolmen who didn't need to stray far from the hideout. 

It was too risky to attempt a rescue for now. Even with Aglovale there to help, they had no idea where the hostages were being held or how many there were. If they both launched an assault, the anarchists, knowing their advantage would be forfeit, might grow desperate enough to kill all of their remaining prisoners. Siegfried sighed quietly. They would have to return with the rest of the crew once they rendezvoused with them in the morning. 

The last rays of sunlight were disappearing beneath the horizon. There was no way Siegfried and Aglovale would make it back through the forests before night fell—they would have to find shelter, and fast. Fortunately, after another half-hour trek through the underbrush to distance themselves from their hideout, Siegfried was able to pick out another cave that seemed large enough to protect them from the worst of the cold. With the kindling he had been gathering bundled up in his arms, Siegfried set to work starting a fire.

Aside from magical studies, Aglovale fancied himself something of an engineer, personally masterminding improvements to Wales' infrastructure. He felt sure he would have noticed a tunnel system like this if it had been surveyed. That his surveyors had missed it was another burr under his saddle; finding good help was so hard these days. It was something else he would have to oversee himself. 

He was ready to turn around and go back down this cursed mountain when he realized (much later than Siegfried) that they were too far from the village without enough daylight to get back. Seeing Siegfried beginning to gather brush and twigs for kindling made his stomach bottom out. He was going to have to spend a night out in the woods with _that man._

Though the cave wasn't exposed to the elements, it wasn't exactly a palace either. There were signs that it had been occupied at one time: some broken branches and leaves on the floor might have been the bedding for an animal or a hapless traveler. Aglovale's upper lip curled. Unable to hide his distaste for the idea of sleeping on a rocky, dirty floor, he gathered firewood and put it against one wall of the cave. His expression grew more and more morose. No bath, no dinner, little chance of sleep, and having to spend it all with _Siegfried._

When he found Percival, he'd better have a _very_ good explanation for why he'd made this kind of intervention necessary. 

Siegfried eyed the firewood that Aglovale had stacked against the wall. He would have reprimanded any fledgling knight for picking such green wood for a campfire, but he held his tongue as he realized Aglovale was probably the last person to be bothered by the cold. The fire he started earlier made quick work of the kindling, bathing the cave in a warm orange glow. 

"I've gathered enough fuel to keep the fire going for several hours," Siegfried said, giving Aglovale only a cursory glance in his direction before ensuring his greatsword was secured and stepping outside. "I won't be longer than two." 

Siegfried knew better than anyone else the dangers of foraging for food at night, when more aggressive nocturnal beasts stalked the shadows. There was no reason why he had to take this risk at all, when he was quite well-accustomed to forgoing regular meals out of necessity or expediency. But as the memory of Aglovale's wounded face flashed in his mind, Siegfried found himself scouring the brush for wild herbs and returning to the cave with a pennyfowl, making quick work of it with the hunting knife he kept strapped to his waist. Before long he had several cuts of seasoned meat roasting over the open fire; he looked at Aglovale and silently offered him a skewer.

Two hours was plenty long enough for Aglovale. Nevermind that he hadn't requested Siegfried to go do whatever it was he went to do—Siegfried didn't say where he was going, and Aglovale hadn't asked him—so Aglovale had assumed he was going to reconnoiter and didn't need two people smashing through the bush when one would be sufficient. 

_Well, he thought darkly, he's not wrong. I'm not well-suited to crawling on my belly through brambles._ In the time Siegfried was gone, he managed to find and cut down boughs of soft evergreens to make a pile of branches wide enough for both of them to sleep on, having gotten the idea from the scraps left around the cave. It wasn't… _good,_ but it was better than just the bare rock. 

He fed the fire another stick of the firewood he'd gotten. It crackled and snapped cheerfully, but this only made him feel even more concerned about Percival. The black thoughts that originated in his fight with Siegfried began to pull and twist at his surety about Percival's safety, and then circled back to Siegfried. Even though he was worn out, he couldn't find it in himself to sit down. Aglovale paced uneasily at the mouth of the cave until the night melted away from Siegfried's black armor, making him appear out of nothing. Then he sat next to his pile of pine and stared at the fire, only occasionally looking to see what Siegfried was doing.

The offering of bird meat was unexpected. At least it wasn't something unrecognizable. Aglovale reached out and took it without saying anything.

For a while they ate in silence, letting the crackling flames and the whistling of the wind outside the cave fill the empty void between them. When he was sure Aglovale had had his fill, Siegfried sat up straighter and cleared his throat. 

"I apologize for how I acted earlier. As a knight, it was unbecoming of me to let my emotions get out of hand." The image of Aglovale's soft gaze and parted lips came back to plague him, forcing Siegfried push those awful thoughts away.

"I assumed too much of your generosity and wrongly thought ill of your intentions,” Siegfried continued, lowering his head. “I only ask that you do not let my selfish mistakes reflect poorly on Feendrache or the crew. They don't deserve to suffer repercussions for my actions." 

The apology was… appreciated, but somehow both unnecessary and insufficient. Unnecessary because he wouldn't destroy the prosperity he'd been building for the people of Wales since being allowed to continue being king. Insufficient because what could mend a broken heart but time? An apology like this was too soon, patronizing, and couldn't be suffered from anyone else but Siegfried. 

"You must think poorly of me, then," he said in a low voice. "Negotiations, diplomacy... I must make decisions for the good of my people without letting my personal feelings cause strife between kingdoms." Aglovale began taking off his armor, unfastening his gauntlets while he talked. "Feendrache and your captain's crew are considerable forces. That captain particularly. It's not in Wales' best interest to make an enemy of either one." 

He stacked the gauntlets next to him and sat up straighter, reaching around his side to unbuckle his chestplate. Taken off, the crease in it looked worse than it had when he'd assessed it earlier. It would need a lot of work, but might be salvageable. 

"You shouldn't worry that I would exact revenge on the captain or on Feendrache for your rejection." He held the breastplate out in front of him and with his other hand, created a few large chunks of ice in it. Then he set it next to the fire to melt. "A king's heart isn't his to give away in the first place." He paused for a second and then let out a slow, controlled sigh. "Another lesson from the strongest knight in Feendrache." Aglovale dragged his eyes up Siegfried's body, and left them, with some effort, on his face. "Is there nothing he will not teach me?"

Siegfried had honestly prepared to suffer some indignant retort from Aglovale—so when he heard how forlorn he sounded, Siegfried felt his breath catch in his chest. To think he had hurt Aglovale this much. He could feel his thoughts spiralling, taunting him for thinking he could care for someone else without inevitably bringing about their ruin. Gunther, Kriemhild, King Josef, and now...

_A king's heart isn’t his to give away?_

Now it was Siegfried's turn to raise his head and stare at Aglovale. 

"Rejection...?" Brows furrowed, Siegfried shook his head. He missed something. He _had_ to have missed something. 

"I don't understand what you mean."

Aglovale stared at Siegfried. Doesn't… understand what he means? Surely in the middle of a discussion started by an apology, Siegfried would not mock him by pretending not to understand what had happened. No, Siegfried was not the type of man to take pleasure in mocking someone. 

"I wanted to kiss you after you saved my life." He swallowed his pride. "But you... the look on your face made your feelings plain." 

Siegfried blinked. His mouth opened, then closed, then finally opened again to speak.

"You... wanted to kiss me...?" He uttered the words again, barely believing what he heard. "And you thought I..."

It was rare that Siegfried was ever at a loss for words, rarer still that he couldn't recover quickly enough to stop himself from looking at Aglovale with his mouth hanging slightly open. So everything that had happened earlier wasn't just his imagination running away from him: Aglovale's hand gently brushing back his hair, the tender look he gave him amidst the falling snowflakes, his lips parting to try and kiss him. Siegfried was almost relieved in knowing that Aglovale genuinely returned his feelings, but what of the consequences? A knight, especially someone like him, a danger to everyone around him, having a relationship with a foreign king?

And yet. Something deep, something he'd unknowingly buried within him rose to the surface. Siegfried denied himself of so much, for so long. And now Aglovale stood before him, practically laying his heart bare for Siegfried, pleading with him to accept it. His hidden desire possessed his legs, made him step over the fire and approach Aglovale, hovering so close to him he swore Aglovale could hear Siegfried's heart pounding in his chest. His honeyed eyes gazed at Aglovale, smoldering like Fafnir's flames, his hands nearly about to cup Aglovale's face and pull him into a kiss.

No one was here to watch them. No one would know. Just this once, let him cut his tethers loose, throw his duty to the wayside. Let him indulge his selfish desires, kiss him, mark him, press Aglovale against the wall and make him cry his name, again and again—

Siegfried pulled back, hand covering his mouth. Shame crept through his cheeks as he looked away, panting.

"I… I need to... go take first watch. You need to sleep for the hike down in the morning." Without looking back, Siegfried ran out of the cave, the darkness swallowing him into the night.

Watching Siegfried stride forward through the fire, his knees licked by flames, was enough to make Aglovale's mouth go dry. He was so close, his brown hair edged with warm light. For an instant, it looked as if a fire came from within him, burning in his eyes, and threatening to consume Aglovale in the flames. _He's going to kiss me,_ Aglovale thought—what else would he do when he was that close—but then Siegfried drew back, a bleak expression on his face. Then he was gone from the cave, as much one with darkness as any other creature of the night. 

"Siegfried!" Aglovale called after him, his voice pleading. He got to his feet, looking beyond the campfire and finding only the impersonal, sinister forest. In frustration, he yelled, "Siegfried!!" 

But no answer came from the woods. 

Belatedly wary of drawing any attention from patrolling brigands that might be close by, Aglovale bit his tongue, though he paced back and forth in the cave like a caged animal. Still, Siegfried didn't return. Aglovale was sure nothing out there could kill him, so Siegfried must be staying away on purpose. But why, when he'd looked ready to have his way with him on the floor of a cave in the middle of the woods? 

Eventually, after about twenty minutes, Aglovale removed the rest of his armor, stripping down to his quilted doublet. He washed his face and hands in the melted ice, leaving the rest for Siegfried. Then he spread his cape out on the pile of pine boughs and laid down facing the back of the cave. 

Sleep, if it came at all, was light and fitful.

Siegfried heard Aglovale cry out for him but didn't dare to turn back. He pushed deeper into the forest, following the path they’d traveled earlier in the day. It wasn't long before he’d doubled back to the spot where the two had first observed the enemy hideout. The sentries were nowhere to be seen, most likely having retired for the night. Finding a small clearing within the trees, Siegfried sat against a tree and sighed, burying his face in his hands. 

The frigid mountain air had helped cool his burning cheeks, though it did little to stop his thoughts from racing. Never had he hurt someone so much or been so overcome with emotion that he had to run away like he did. His younger, boorish self would have mocked him for his weakness. Aglovale knew his true feelings now. When this was all over, he wouldn't be able to face him again.

It was well into the dead of night when Siegfried returned, stepping silently into the cave. The fire had long collapsed into a small pile of smoking ashes, the cinders underneath them still hot to the touch. Aglovale was turned away, asleep on his nest of pine boughs. With a tightness in his chest, Siegfried unwound the blue scarf tucked into his armor and draped it over Aglovale's body, then quietly sighed and moved to sit towards the entrance of the cave, his back against the wall. He closed his eyes, feeling the exhaustion pull his mind into a hazy void.

Aglovale slept through Siegfried's return; exhaustion made the pine boughs softer than clouds. A punctual man, he always rose at dawn, but this time he found himself stirring before the edges of the sky turned gray. 

The first thing he noticed as he awakened was the smell. He was heavily scented with pine. Some of the sap had gotten in his hair and would be murder to get out once he got back to a proper bath. 

But then he smelled something else. There was something warm on top of him. It stank slightly of sweat and spicy musk and armor oil. Not truly awake yet, he pulled it off of his body and gathered it into a ball. In the dark where no one could see, Aglovale buried his face in it and breathed deep. 

_By the skies, he smells awful and wonderful at the same time._ Aglovale took another deep sniff and his lower body gave an indecent throb. _How does it smell so filthy and yet..._ He hesitated just for an instant and then rubbed it all over his face, so that Siegfried’s scent would linger on him like one of his expensive perfumes. His spirit revitalized, he sat up.

The starlight revealed a man sitting at the front of the cave, which could only be Siegfried. Aglovale got to his feet, making almost no sound as he put his armor back on, only the occasional quiet clank of plates settling against each other. He poured the last of the ice melt on the fire and fastened his breastplate on; it was better protection than none at all. 

Freshly indulged and feeling better than he expected, he picked up his cape and the scarf and slipped over to Siegfried. Aglovale crouched next to him for a second, listening to his steady breathing. When he was satisfied that Siegfried was still asleep, he tucked the cape over him and put the scarf on top to keep him extra-warm. 

On an impulse, he brushed Siegfried's hair back from his face, hardly able to make out his features. Aglovale whispered, so faintly they were barely words more than thoughts. 

"Even if it is not mine to give away, even if you do not want it, it is yours." 

Then he picked up his sword and stepped out to set a perimeter around the cave. 

Siegfried was long accustomed to being a light sleeper in the field, ready to spring into action at a moment's notice if there was even a hint of something amiss. His eyes flew open at the sound of clanking armor, but upon realizing who it was, Siegfried made no attempts to move. The emotions from last night were still too raw, and he still had to work with Aglovale for the remainder of this mission. It felt childish, but when Aglovale approached his side, Siegfried feigned sleep. He couldn't look at him right now.

So it took all his self-control to remain still and keep his breathing steady when Aglovale tenderly brushed his cheek and confessed. His quiet tone of voice was like a young boy shyly confessing his innocent love, almost afraid of hearing the words out loud as if it would shatter the moment forever. It pained Siegfried to see Aglovale—proud, self-assured Aglovale—show so much vulnerability to someone who could give him nothing in return. 

It wasn't until he heard Aglovale's receding footsteps fade that Siegfried finally opened his eyes and stared into the darkness of the cavern. The warmth of Aglovale's cape felt undeserved after everything that happened, the end result of Siegfried avoiding Aglovale like a guilty child, but he still found himself wrapping it closer around himself, taking in its scent. Despite all the dirt and grime, it still faintly smelled like strawberries, warm and comforting. 

Siegfried put his head between his knees and squeezed his eyes shut. The first light of morning gently illuminated his silhouette, indifferent to his silent anguish.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [5:02 PM] tigerine: ....  
> [5:02 PM] tigerine: jesus christ he's so gay  
> [5:02 PM] Rowlet: HE'S SO GAY


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As a reminder, this chapter has been retained in its original roleplay format. Aglovale’s thoughts and dialogue are in **blue font** while Siegfried’s remains in **black font.**

Siegfried pushed through the underbrush. He needed to catch up to Aglovale. His footprints were tracing a path through the woods back towards the enemy hideout. With how little time had elapsed since Aglovale left, Siegfried was sure he would run into him soon, but as he reached a small clearing, Siegfried felt his heart sink into the pit of his stomach. 

Three fresh sets of footprints appeared directly behind Aglovale’s. All four of them led towards the cave entrance.

There were some traces of residual magical energy pricking Siegfried’s senses, but it worried him that there were no signs of Aglovale putting up any kind of struggle. He clenched his jaw. If the anarchists had their hands on Aglovale, then they had all the control they wanted. There was no time to rendezvous with Gran and Vane now. 

With determination in his eyes and a burning question in his chest, Siegfried pressed on and prepared to intercept the enemy on his own.

To say that Aglovale was embarrassed was an understatement. He wasn't usually so easy to sneak up on—even a king had to have some awareness of his surroundings. The fact was that he was a little... preoccupied at the time, with not a lot of blood in his brain. He hadn't even considered the strength of a magical dampening field, at least, not yet. Those were all secondary concerns compared to putting a quick stop to the heat that held his lower body in a merciless grip. 

But he hadn't even gotten to finish before a knifepoint dug between his armor plates and a sneering voice said, "Having fun where you shouldn't be, Blondie?" 

He'd sighed and tucked himself away, thinking it was just as well to infiltrate the camp this way; he could free everyone without needing Siegfried's help, and then there wouldn't be any more talk of debts or repayment. 

They tied him up with rough, thick rope, his hands behind his back. Then he'd tried to use ice magic to shatter his bonds and found it not just blunted, but _gone._ His shout of confusion and indignant anger had gotten him gagged and hooded. They'd kicked him to make him walk, and after what felt like forever, shoved him down on his knees in a cell. 

"Aniue!" 

The sound of the cell door slamming shut echoed in the cave. His hood was pulled off, and by the light of a torch on the wall, Aglovale saw the face of Percival and dozens of villagers. 

"Percival, are you alright?" He tried to say, but the gag made it impossible.

Percival removed the gag and began to untie his bonds. "You've gotten caught as well?" 

"I wasn't able to use magic, and they surprised me at an inopportune time." 

"So you were also pulled into their trap." Percival pulled the last of the ropes off. 

"Trap?" Aglovale stretched his shoulders and started to rub his wrists. The ropes had been so tight they'd cut into his skin; his forearm guards had been no protection. 

"I overheard some of the guards talking about leylines and a magic circle that made it impossible for magic to be used." 

Aglovale's heart sank. The tuning circles at the dragon nodes, previously used to amplify the main circle under the castle, were magical artifacts he'd left in place, as they still had their uses that weren't related to the Otherworld. He'd used one of them to modify and test an early version of the anti-dragon dampening field, but that had been on the other side of the country. They must have found that arcane architecture and modified it themselves. 

Anger froze his veins. Not only kidnapped and treated like a common thief, but his magical work had also been disturbed and desecrated? If he'd been capable of using magic, every single person in that cell would have been an ice cube. But it was warm and stuffy, all the more because of his impotent rage. 

Security had been heightened since yesterday, with four guards now patrolling the front entrance. Siegfried leapt out from the brush with a running start, quickly subduing them before they had a chance to sound the alarm and then slipping into the cave entrance. The air grew damp as he made his way deeper into the tunnels. A line of torches on the wall led him further underground until the tunnel suddenly opened up into an enormous, high-ceiling cavern. Hidden behind a small outcropping, Siegfried saw a long underground river snaking its way across the cavern before disappearing around a corner. Nearly a dozen men were loading cargo onto several wooden rafts tied to a makeshift dock.

A shudder raced down his spine. There was something incredibly unsettling about whatever they were loading onto those barges. He’d plotted out a route to get closer to inspect, but his attention was suddenly drawn to an exit on his right. A spike of magical energy, just like the one he felt outside. 

Though it set his nerves on edge, Siegfried made his way across and descended into another tunnel, this one darker and more narrow than the last. He hadn’t even made it a few meters in, before the weight of an anti-dragon barrier suddenly pressed into him from all sides. His legs grew limp and he collapsed immediately, not even able to summon the energy to scream as he felt his blood boil white-hot and stars flashed across his vision.

* * *

A hooded figure descended down another tunnel and arrived before a row of prison cells. He strode forward leisurely to the cell at the end of the room and stood at the bars, sneering.

"My, my. To what do I owe the pleasure of having the illustrious King of Wales traveling so far from home?" 

Aglovale hadn't spent much time in the cells, but he'd learned that the prisoners were being kept in barely human conditions, fed crusts of bread twice a day and sharing facilities. There were more people from Wales than Feendrache in here, and his presence didn't ease their fears. 

A small murmur came from the front of the cell while he was speaking to a woman near the back, and he pushed forward to see who was coming to talk to them. 

"All of Wales is my home," he said icily. "Who are you, trespassing on my land?" 

"I'm no trespasser. Just a concerned citizen who has been troubled with the state of affairs in Wales. I didn't think you'd fall for such a simple trick, coming to rescue your younger brother." The stranger turned his head towards Percival, most of his face remaining hidden by his cloak. 

"But I suppose that's what family is, right?” He laughed. “Something to throw away your kingdom for at the drop of a hat?" 

Aglovale and Percival shared a look before Aglovale spoke up. That Aglovale would come to Percival's aid was not in question: they had been inseparable for so much of their youth, given the circumstances... anyone would have known that pressure put on Percival would eventually be felt by Aglovale. 

"You have the right to petition me like any other citizen, but you're making a mistake if you think that I've thrown anything away. This kingdom is mine and I won't tolerate the abuse of her citizens or her allies." 

"Oho? And what will King Aglovale do, locked up like an animal in a cage without his magic to save him?" The man gripped the metal bars and rattled them, taunting Aglovale. 

"What happened to the great monarch you were, who ruled with an iron fist? A traitor wouldn't be offered the chance to speak. They'd be executed on the spot." He spat the words at him. 

"But then the White Dragons of Feendrache came along with that _disgusting_ band of skyfarers, and now all I see in front of me is just the shell of what would have been Wales' greatest achievements. It’s pitiful to watch." 

"You—!" Percival reached through the bars to grab the man, but he stepped back out of reach. 

Aglovale put his hand on Percival's shoulder and gave him a look, not one that one brother gives to another, but one that a king gives to his knight. _I know you are angry, but you must restrain yourself. Your captain, Lyria, Vane—and Siegfried—they're all still out there. They'll find us._

"I still rule with an iron fist," Aglovale said. "You will see what happens to those who claim to act in my name when I'm out of here, especially those who sully the name of the White Dragons. Smugglers have no claim to great achievements, skulking in caves like rats." 

_"When you're out of here?"_ The man burst into laughter, putting his hand to his forehead. "You think you still have power here? That someone will come to your rescue?" He turned around to face the guard at the entrance.

"Bring him in."

The ominous sound of rattling iron descended from the tunnel as two additional guards appeared. Between them, they dragged Siegfried into the room, holding him by the chains binding his wrists together. His legs skidded uselessly on the ground as they tossed him onto the stone floor halfway between the entryway and Aglovale’s cell.

"Siegfried!" Percival called out to him, but Siegfried didn't give any indication that he was conscious. 

A muscle tensed in Aglovale's jaw at the sight of that man-shaped pile of armor. "You _dare_ hurt him and claim to be acting for Wales?" 

Not just magic-dampening, but a dragon-dampening field, and one much stronger than the one he'd made. He reached out to grab the bars, and a thin, white film of frost formed on the iron, but unfortunately, Aglovale was pulling on enough magic to bring a blizzard down on the entire mountain. It wasn’t enough.

The muscle in his jaw tensed again. Being angry wouldn't do anything for them or Siegfried now, and it would make it harder to negotiate, odious as the prospect was. 

"What do you want?" 

Behind the hooded man, Siegfried groaned quietly, barely conscious. 

“This kingdom was going to achieve greatness by your hand! All of your most loyal subjects would have prospered for generations to come!” The stranger scoffed, jabbing a finger behind him. “But this miserable wretch of a knight destroyed Wales’ chance at total domination. Why do you care so much for him?

“Unless...” His mouth twitched into a malicious smile. 

“I see. So _that’s_ why you wanted to know his whereabouts at all times.” His voice dripped with acrid derision. 

“You _love_ him.” 

An uneasy silence descended on the cell as everyone's eyes turned to Aglovale to see what his response would be to this spurious claim. Even Percival turned to look at his brother, indignant that such a blatant lie would even be said out loud. 

But Aglovale hadn't moved a muscle, frozen in a staring battle with the stranger. He did not deny that he loved Siegfried or that he'd wanted to know where he was. 

"Aniue..." Percival muttered in a low voice. "Is that true?" 

Aglovale blinked slowly, still staring daggers at the stranger. Someone high up in his intelligence network—perhaps his spymaster himself—had betrayed him, and he would find out who later. But for now....

"That knight," he said, "is the reason Wales continues to exist at all. Every citizen in my kingdom owes him a life-debt, and mine greatest of all. If you think this kingdom should dominate at the expense of our people, then you are no champion of Wales." 

Aglovale’s tormentor seemed taken aback at his genuine declaration of humility. After a moment, he shook his head. “I thought there was some chance of making you see the error of your ways. What a shame.” He turned around and began walking away, but not before stopping in front of the doorway and turning to one of the brigands following him. 

“You there. Tell them to reverse the anti-dragon field. And you—“ he said, turning to the prison guard.

“—Make sure no one leaves this room alive.” 

The man’s footsteps receded into the tunnel. The room fell silent. Siegfried lay motionless on the ground, the shallow rise and fall of his chest the only proof he was still alive. Then the atmosphere in the room changed instantly, a magical spike sending goosebumps down everyone’s skin, like a magnetic field suddenly shifting polarity. 

Without warning, Siegfried jolted, his back arching off the floor, a bloodcurdling howl ripping from his throat as something began tearing mercilessly at his mind. Several villagers behind Percival shrieked, the others cowering away from the scene in terror. Siegfried continued writhing wildly on the floor, the chains around his wrist creaking loudly from the strain as the awful screech of scraping metal reverberated through the cells.

Aglovale winced at the first clank of chains, but didn't look away until Siegfried started to scream. His heart was breaking for the second time today, this time for Siegfried himself. To see the man who gave him so much in such terrible suffering tore at his heart, but he didn't have time to linger in his thoughts. The cell wasn't built strong enough to withstand a dragon, and probably not to withstand Siegfried in the throes of a rage. It was clear that the stranger intended for Siegfried to rip them all apart. There wasn't much time to make plans. 

"Women and children at the back of the cell!" he barked. "Men at the front!" The townsfolk shuffled in the cell while Siegfried howled. It wasn't hard to get them to press themselves against the back wall in terror. 

Aglovale turned to Percival, using Siegfried's cries as cover for his instructions. "That guard was carrying keys, so use the distraction to get everyone out safely. I will handle him the best I can, but without magic or a sword, you won’t have much time. Then meet up with Gran and Lyria. They're searching the area with Vane." 

"Aniue—" Percival looked at Siegfried's writhing form, listening to the shriek of the chains grinding against each other. "Siegfried might still be able to be saved. If we can just shut off the dragon field—”

"Percival!" Aglovale shouted. "Do not come back here until you know you can kill him. When everyone is safe, we can see if the trade we made was too costly." 

Then there was an awful sound like a gunshot and the clear ring of the chains hitting the floor. 

"He's coming." Aglovale moved to stand between the cell door and his subjects, using his arm to hold them back. "If Lamorak doesn't return, then..." He locked eyes with Percival once more as he heard Siegfried get to his feet. 

"Be a good king." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you thought it was going to be a normal angsty semi-slowburn but it was _me_ , my undying thirst for rampaging feral siegfried ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ
> 
> [10:07 PM] Rowlet: yknow i had a funny thought while i was figuring stuff out  
> [10:07 PM] Rowlet: wouldn't it be funny if aglovale's spymaster was actually the mastermind behind it all  
> [10:07 PM] tigerine: uh-huh?  
> [10:07 PM] tigerine: ...  
> [10:08 PM] tigerine: oh my god  
> [10:08 PM] Rowlet: spymaster: i'm sick and tired of u making me chase ur boyfriend around the country  
> [10:08 PM] tigerine: ......  
> [10:08 PM] tigerine: oh my gOD  
> [10:09 PM] Rowlet: THAT'S NOT A REAL REASON  
> [10:09 PM] tigerine: Aglovale would IMMEDIATELY have to declare that they were not boyfriends and he was just tracking a weapon/threat  
> [10:09 PM] tigerine: and that would GUT siegfried  
> [10:09 PM] Rowlet: fjsfheksjhf


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As a reminder, this chapter has been retained in its original roleplay format. Aglovale’s thoughts and dialogue are in **blue font** while Siegfried’s remains in **black font.**

Every nerve and muscle in Siegfried’s body exploded with pain. His skin burned like being pressed with red-hot irons. Ravenous voice screamed in his mind: kill, destroy, kill, kill, _kill._ Siegfried's teeth ground together loudly in his head as he clutched his stomach, ramming himself into the bars of an empty prison cell with a sharp clang. Thoroughly incensed by the pain shooting up his side, Siegfried bellowed and slashed at the metal with his clawed gauntlets, the bent bars flying into the wall as if made of wood.

"A-Aieee!"

His head whipped towards the prison guard retreating back into the doorway. As the poor man scrambled up the tunnel in vain, Siegfried rushed at him, grabbing him by the head and throwing him clear across the room. The guard’s light armor was no match for the force. He slammed against the cell with a sickening crack and fell limp on the floor, in reach of Percival and Aglovale. Tied to his belt were a set of keys, and a longsword was strapped to his waist.

Meanwhile, Siegfried was at the far end of the room, clutching his head and throwing himself into another prison cell.

Aglovale remained interposed between the door and the wild man in the hall until he heard Siegfried's footsteps move away, and then he sagged in relief.

"Aniue!" Percival reached through the bars and pulled the keys off the dying guard's belt.

Aglovale turned to face the villagers. "Follow him and he'll take you to safety." It took three tries to find the key that fit the door, but when the lock gave, the door opened suddenly, just as another yell from Siegfried echoed through the tunnel. _He's so loud, it might just cover the sound of them escaping. And it might give me enough time to find the dampening fields._

"Hurry!" Aglovale stripped the guard of his longsword and pressed it into Percival's hands. "Go! Get them out into the woods!"

"What about you?"

Aglovale took the keys from Percival and stood between the cell that Siegfried was in and the escaping villagers. "I'm going to buy some time." 

Percival danced in place for an instant, unable to decide whether to go or stay, but then looked at the villagers. "Move quickly, but be quiet. Don't leave anyone behind!"

The hall behind him emptied out, leaving Aglovale alone in the hallway. The keyring around his wrist, he slipped up to the cell Siegfried was in and looked inside. 

Siegfried was hunched over in the back of the cell, clouds of dust rising around him as he gouged streaks into the stone walls and floor. His entire body was wracked with tremors, Siegfried clinging to every fiber of his consciousness to keep his rage directed away from living targets. He could barely even remember why he was here in the first place, but he knew he was a danger to Aglovale—

Aglovale.

Blurry memories, like seeing shapes and colors through the cover of a fierce blizzard. A beautiful man with golden hair, who made him smile, who made his heart twist in pain.

Kill him.

_**Kill him.** _

Siegfried roared, gathering a dark, crimson aura in his claws before hurtling himself at the wall. The tremors from the explosion made the ground shake, cracks appearing all along the floor and ceiling. Siegfried snarled and fell to his knees, gripping his head in agony.

"Grragghhr... Gglo... Aahggl..."

Aglovale walked quietly past the bars at the front of the cell, wishing fervently that whatever nightmare Siegfried was in would last long enough for him to do something to end it. The great roar shook his bones, but he steadied his hand and reached out to the cell door, hoping that since it was so recently installed, it would still be somewhat easy to move. It wasn't silent, but it didn't scrape loudly, either. 

Focused on his work, he pushed the cell door closed. The lock caught with a ping like a blacksmith's hammer striking. 

His heart in his throat, Aglovale looked at Siegfried. 

He twisted around to look at whatever had snuck up behind him. Upon seeing Aglovale, Siegfried recoiled, the noises from his throat caught halfway between choked gasps and guttural snarls. 

It was him. Aglovale. He was so beautiful. Hair like the color of the moon. Aglovale. Something tore at his chest. Deep red eyes like rose petals. Red like blood. His blood. Blood, rend him, kill him, _kill him_ —

He howled in rage and charged directly at him.

Aglovale saw the physical recoil, his body almost tearing itself apart trying to both advance on him and scrabble away, and his decision was made. There was enough of Siegfried's mind left that he had to do something. He was already leading with one foot to run for the door when Siegfried's howl echoed throughout the cell.

He was only just out of the way when Siegfried crashed into the bars of the cell, jerking them out of the wall in a single huge lattice of iron. Aglovale ran down the tunnels as fast as his greaves could manage, trying to slow down at intersections to feel where the ward generators might be. Couldn't be far, because it hadn't taken long for them to get to the dragon-dampening field and reverse it. 

Siegfried's steps behind him were fast; he was faster than Aglovale would have been without armor. The only thing that had slowed him down had been the bars, and without that he was completely unfettered. The stone tunnel widened in front of him, and the echoes of Siegfried's bellowing grew more indistinct and less recognizably human as they bounced around the larger space. The barges were stalled at the loading docks, surrounded by smugglers frozen stock-still with fear. 

"Run, you fools!" Aglovale shouted. 

As if a spell had been broken, they turned and stumbled over themselves and their crates of cargo, scrambling for the exits. The monstrous echoes resolved into a half-human voice again as behind him, Siegfried careened into the cavern. 

The change in environment seemed to confuse Siegfried for a moment, his eyes roaming wildly around the cavern until they landed squarely on Aglovale. With a low growl, Siegfried advanced a few steps. Then, his greaves skidded to a stop, his movements jerky and erratic as if he were fighting to restrain himself. 

"Grrh... Aghghh...!" 

Without warning, Siegfried clutched his head again and rushed headlong into a nearby stone column, the resounding impact sending out huge tremors as a fissure split the cavern’s ceiling. Huge boulders tumbled down from above. They crashed into the barges, sending enormous sprays of water into the air. Shattered crystals of dark essence glimmered within the rubble as their shadowy aura dissipated, filling the air with a dense, malevolent energy.

The dust began to settle. Siegfried grabbed his head again and fell to his knees, his feral growls tinged with a high-pitched keen, dragon-like eyes pinning themselves on Aglovale.

"Agrrgh... Rrh... un... Gghoa..." In this fleeting moment, Aglovale could easily see the devastating effects of the reversed dragon suppression field. Siegfried snarled at Aglovale, baring sharpened fangs, clusters of deep vermilion scales mottling his face and neck. A dark crimson aura surrounded him, threatening to consume the last remaining shreds of his sanity. 

The moment was shattered. Siegfried's roar shook the cavern as he sprung forward and swung a claw at Aglovale.

"...Goaaargghh!!" 

Aglovale couldn't hide his shock at the transformation that had already begun to take place, just from the dragon-amplification field. He could see the scales sprouting from Siegfried's skin, literally growing over his human shape like a tumor. He made a noise of anguish as Siegfried's razor-sharp howls cut at his heart. 

_Siegfried... Siegfried, what are they doing to you?_

He took a step toward him, and that was a mistake. 

Siegfried's clawed gauntlet squealed and screeched across Aglovale's damaged breastplate. The claws caught the ridge of the crease in the metal and there was so much strength behind it that it lifted Aglovale up and hurled him across the room. He slid to a halt in a pile of stone rubble with a low groan of pain. 

There was no time for remorse. The sight of Aglovale in a heap on the ground sent Siegfried into a renewed frenzy, his howls growing more and more monstrous with every passing second. The last of the brigands screamed as they fled towards the exit, drawing his attention away from Aglovale. With a savage roar, dark swirling energy coalesced in Siegfried’s clawed gauntlet and he tore across the cavern in the blink of an eye, leaving a torrent of destruction in his wake.

The wind had been knocked out of him as he crashed to the ground. Aglovale sucked in one breath and then another, coughing as he tried to recover and gather his wits. A scream cut off in a wet, stomach-turning thud. Aglovale lifted his head to see Siegfried with his fist buried in a brigand's solar plexus. It wasn't clear if he'd punched _through_ the man or merely knocked him unconscious in a single blow. Either way, seeing Siegfried—kind, restrained Siegfried—so completely in the grip of a dragon's killing fury dragged a weak yell of outrage from Aglovale's lips. 

"No!" Aglovale staggered to his feet. And then, in a moment of brilliance or madness, he wasn't sure which, he realized he still had the keys around his wrist. Wildly he beat at his crunched-in chestplate with them, making an unholy racket. 

"Look here!" He yelled, starting to run toward another stone corridor. “Here! Siegfried!”

Siegfried whipped his head toward the sound. The man he'd impaled crumpled uselessly to the ground, blood dripping off Siegfried's vambraces as he snarled at Aglovale. With a guttural cry, he surged forward, chasing Aglovale into a narrow, winding tunnel. Siegfried’s wild frenzy caused him to indiscriminately crash into the walls at every sharp turn, loosening rubble from the low ceiling as his enraged howls echoed behind Aglovale.

Aglovale ran as fast as he could down the hallway, going deeper into the anarchists’ lair, almost deafened by the constant baying for blood at his heels. A stone hallway opened up on his right, ending in a door, and his magical senses tingled. _This one. Something is in here._ He ran into the door at full speed, jerking at the handle. Locked. 

One of these keys _must_ open the door. His hands shook as he fanned through the keys, trying to find the right one. 

Behind him, another roar echoed, closer. 

Blessedly, it was the first key he tried. Aglovale jerked the door open and found himself in a small room, partially covered with a magic circle. In front of him, a crystal hovered, with one small black speck nestled in a carved hollow—dark essence, modifying a magical circle with a crystal to mediate. In the panic, Aglovale wasn't sure which one it was, the magic-nullifier or the dragon-dampener.

Siegfried was right behind him.

Aglovale shoved the crystal to the floor, shattering it. 

Heavy footsteps drew close. From the dark tunnel, Siegfried stepped into the room, the crystal fragments crunching beneath his feet. He drew to a halt some distance away from Aglovale. 

For a moment, the room was silent. 

The snarl rising from his chest was Aglovale's only warning before Siegfried lunged straight for his throat.

A raging flood of magic answered Aglovale's call instantly. He danced back from Siegfried's swipe, feeling the wind off his arm. _Powerful enough to kill me with one blow. He's probably too far gone, but..._

Aglovale plunged the room into a deep freeze. Icicles coalesced on the ceiling as every drop of moisture turned from vapor into snow. He didn't even have to motion for a pillar of ice to grow up from the ground, encasing Siegfried's legs completely. 

Another clawed swipe at him; this one took off a few strands of hair before Aglovale got out of the way. The ice around Siegfried's legs shattered and immediately reformed, freezing him in place again. A column of ice caught Siegfried's arm and then broke as Siegfried struggled. 

"Give up, Siegfried," Aglovale ground out, trying to circle around behind him. "If you make me freeze the whole room, I won't be able to get out." 

Siegfried wrenched his limbs forward, the heat rising from his body melting the ice just as quickly as it froze over again. The deep growl in his chest grew louder the longer he stared at Aglovale. Another memory, this time of being frozen completely in ice, with those red eyes giving him that same pitiful look.

Anger boiled up from his core and he let out an ear-splitting howl, shattering all of the ice around him with shockwaves of crimson energy. The ground shook. A loud explosion came from above, followed by the sound of something blowing open.

The columns of ice that reformed around his limbs were now too fragile to keep him in place. Siegfried slowly inched forward towards Aglovale, frothing at the mouth and completely consumed with rage.

The roar took him by surprise, as did the total destruction of all the ice fetters. This amount of ice wasn't going to be enough to stop him, but if he used too much more, he was going to hurt Siegfried's body. 

But the return of his magic had given him the time to collect his wits, and with that, the presence of mind to recognize that the crash above them could only be one thing. Brigands couldn't work in magical theory: the magic circle he'd put in place to tune the main circle in the castle wasn't just powering the magic nullifier, but the dragon-dampener as well. And given the difficulty of tunneling through rock...

Aglovale looked up and, as he'd expected, the ceiling was wooden. They hadn't even bothered to find a different part of the tuning circle to get power. They'd just overlaid them both on the circle at the same place. 

Aglovale shrank back into the stone doorway to protect himself. With one hand he imprisoned Siegfried in a block of ice. With the other, great daggers of ice splintered the wooden floor above them into ribbons and brought it crashing down. 

A torrent of rubble and splintered wood rushed into the small space, sending up huge clouds of debris. A few seconds later, a loud crack was accompanied by a spray of ice as Siegfried burst out of his prison, snarling. He reached out a hand, but as he stepped forward he began to lurch to and fro, unsteady on his feet. By the time he was within arm's reach, the rage that possessed his body had left him, replaced with a heavy exhaustion that weighed down his legs. He teetered forward, drawing ragged, quiet breaths.

"...Aglo... ale..."

Aglovale stepped forward and caught Siegfried in his arms, sinking with him down to the floor. With his free hand, he destroyed the rest of the ice around Siegfried's body, pulling him halfway onto his lap. "I have you," he said. 

Siegfried was shivering inside his armor. It was as Aglovale feared; he'd used too much ice. Aglovale took Siegfried's hand in his own; they were nearly the same temperature. He blew on Siegfried's fingers, but it didn't help much. Even though Aglovale's body had been warm while his magic was nullified, he was once again flush with magic. He was the worst person in the world to hold Siegfried right now. 

"We can't rest for long. I don't know what other surprises they have for us in here." Aglovale brushed Siegfried's hair back from his face, looking into his eyes. They were still vaguely dragon-like, droopy, nearly closed—not conscious. Siegfried wouldn't be walking out of here under his own power. 

Siegfried wheezed and coughed weakly, unable to stop his body from shivering. He saw Aglovale frowning at him, golden hair framing his concerned expression. Even if his legs wouldn’t listen, Siegfried found enough strength in his arms to reach up and gingerly brush Aglovale's cheek with the back of his trembling hand. "Aglovale… I..." 

He had so many things he wanted to say, a torrent wanting to burst forth from his chest, but the fatigue was closing in on him. Siegfried groaned as he rolled in Aglovale's lap and pushed himself onto his hands. His vision blurred, Aglovale’s pleas for him to rest going unheard. With his eyes closed, Siegfried blindly trailed his hand over Aglovale’s neck, finding the line of his jaw. He leaned in. The pain, the cold, his thoughts left him completely. 

All he could feel was the warmth of gently kissing Aglovale, of brushing his lips against his, of the soft sigh that escaped him before yielding to unconsciousness. 

If Percival got out, maybe he could find help, but Aglovale didn't think he'd been gone for more than ten minutes. Aglovale's admonitions for Siegfried to save his strength went unheeded. Siegfried kept shifting, and Aglovale was just about to tell him in a more forceful way to stop moving when Siegfried's hand at his jaw made his thoughts of protest blow away like flurries of snow. He couldn't stop Siegfried as their lips touched in a chaste kiss that had little of the passion he'd seen by the fire. It was much more a kiss of gratitude than the one Aglovale had been aching to give him the day before. 

He held Siegfried's head in his hands—it was already over, he was already unconscious— and smoothed his hair back. "Idiot," he whispered, holding Siegfried in his arms. "Kissing me for the first time like that." 

The sound of running footsteps echoed loudly in the tunnel outside the room, along with the unmistakable sounds of Vyrn's announcement that there was ice in the hall, and that's where Aglovale must be. There was a sound of sliding all the way down the hall and then a surprised "Whoa!" from Vane, followed by a heavy thud.

Aglovale pressed a kiss to Siegfried's forehead. _I'm sorry, but I need to take some time to clean this mess up._ The captain could be trusted to defend him, and the puppy had the brawn to carry him out. 

"Vane! Captain!" He called out. "In here!" 

Vyrn was the first one to fly into the room, followed shortly by Gran and Lyria, who both carefully slid by Vane as he sat up and rubbed his forehead. The crew cast worried looks at Siegfried lying unconscious in Aglovale’s arms, but Gran quickly explained that they knew something was wrong when neither Aglovale nor Siegfried had shown up for their scheduled rendezvous. Based on the information they gathered, the crew had figured out the anarchists were building magic-nullifying devices powered using dark essence. Using the waterways and a network of bribed merchants, the devices were to be distributed within the heart of Wales and Feendrache and activated simultaneously, paralyzing any chances of retaliation and ensuring the anarchists could win in the ensuing chaos.

With their attention turned back to Siegfried, it wasn’t long before Vane had Siegfried carefully slung over his shoulder while Gran carried his greatsword. With the small squadron of Feendrache and Wales knights waiting outside, the crew safely transported him to the royal infirmary. After confirming the safety of the villagers, Percival returned to assist Aglovale in cleaning up, the pair of them overwhelming the remaining stragglers with their newly restored magic.

At the royal castle of Wales, the healers examined Siegfried. He’d sustained heavy injuries while he ran berserk: deep bruises flowering all along his arms, legs, and back, several broken fingers and ribs, huge gashes, frostbite where Aglovale's ice had frozen his skin. But Siegfried’s regenerative abilities worked quickly; already, some of the wounds were beginning to close by the time the crew made it back to the castle. 

It had been four days before Siegfried awoke to the sounds of birds chirping outside his window. He slowly turned his head, smiling at the sight of Lyria and Vyrn snoring softly in a chair while Percival was sitting next to them reading a small stack of reports. When he noticed Siegfried was awake, Percival quietly set his papers aside.

"Siegfried." He stood up and drew closer to his bedside. "How do you feel?" 

"Hmph. Nothing worse than last time," he chuckled, wincing as an ache shot up his flank. If Percival was relieved, he didn't show it. 

"Aniue captured the rest of the anarchists,” Percival said, pre-empting Siegfried’s question. “They were going to use his research on the Otherworld and dark essence from the remnants of the Erste Empire to overthrow him and conquer Feendrache."

"I see." Siegfried stared at the quilted sheets in contemplation, letting the information sink in. "How is Aglovale?"

"He's alright. Neither of us seem to have suffered any permanent effects from the magic nullification fields they used on us. Right now, he is still in the mountains, overseeing work to dismantle what remains of the anarchists’ hideout." A thought seemed to cross Percival's mind as he met Siegfried's gaze. After a pause, he sighed.

"...While we were imprisoned," he began, voice softer than before, "the rebel leader claimed that Aniue... that he sought your affection. At first, I thought he was just spouting nonsense, but... Aniue did not deny any of what he said." The unspoken question weighed heavily in the air between them. 

Finally, Siegfried spoke. "I shouldn't be the one to tell you how your brother feels about me." 

There was a resigned look in Percival’s eyes. "...I understand. I'll let Aniue know that you've awoken. I'm sure he will be happy to hear.” Percival gave a curt nod, then turned to gather his papers and leave. As he reached the exit he stopped, not looking back.

“Siegfried. No matter what happens from here on out, do not betray the trust I've placed in you." 

The door shut quietly behind him. Siegfried stared at its wooden frame before turning to look out the window once more, the memory of a kiss ghosting his lips.

Word reached Aglovale that evening of Siegfried's recovery. Relief flooded him at the sight of Percival's terse letter, and he made the courier wait while he set down two replies: one to Percival and one to Siegfried. 

The one to Siegfried was short, saying that he was pleased to hear of his recovery and wished him good health. Notably absent was any flowery or romantic language, but it was signed with just his first name: no 'of Wales', no 'King', no 'Lord of Frost'. Just... Aglovale. 

The one to Percival was long, detailing the depositions he was taking from brigands. He'd waived the matter being heard by a lower court; the court of the king's opinion was what mattered in dealing with those who would upset the peace between Wales and Feendrache. Aglovale took particular relish in describing the deposition of the stranger, a minor noble, and said that he had not yet decided what his sentence would be, but until then, he was going to rot in an oubliette. Every word oozed his simmering anger toward the rebels, but he'd handed down no death sentences yet. 

At the bottom of this missive, he gave explicit instructions to Percival to try to keep Siegfried in the castle, but not to restrain him if he was fully healed and wanted to leave. He paused in writing, leaving a small blot of ink at the bottom, but then signed his name to this one as well and sent them off. 

It was another three days of very carefully dismantling the magical circle around the dragon node and dealing with quarantine of magical tools and dark essence before Aglovale finally felt that the situation was under control enough to leave the rest to a subordinate. His horses—the black and the white—had been enjoying passing the time in a high meadow. Unaccompanied, he tied the black one to his own reins and took the roads at a leisurely pace to the capital. 

Siegfried was the kind of man who didn't stay in one place too long. Though Aglovale yearned to see him, he was prepared for him to be long gone. It had been a full week since he'd left his castle with Siegfried at his side. Riding through the gates without knowing if Siegfried was there, he felt a quivering feeling in his chest: excitement and apprehension all mixed up together. 

Siegfried was up and walking by the end of the fourth night, and by the fifth day he’d breezed through several sparring matches with some volunteer knights in the practice fields. He suffered some admonishment from Gran and the others for not remaining in bed, but Siegfried merely smiled, saying the life of a convalescent didn't suit him. 

On the night of the sixth day, Percival found him in his room, tending to his armor and sword. Siegfried looked up at him standing in the doorway, as if he had expected Percival to appear sooner or later.

"Aniue wants you to stay for the time being," Percival said. 

"I know he does." 

"He knows he can't stop you if you want to leave."

Siegfried smiled softly, nodding his head, but his eyes reflected back a quiet melancholy. He turned his attention back to his preparations. 

"There’s still much I need to do."

Percival crossed his arms but remained silent. Eventually, Siegfried heard his footsteps receding into the hallway. After getting dressed, Siegfried left a letter for Gran’s crew on the bed and unlatched his window, quietly slipping out into the darkness, a hand by his heart pressing a folded letter into his chest. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> why are there only like three words for "snarl"


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As a reminder, this chapter has been retained in its original roleplay format. Aglovale’s thoughts and dialogue are in **blue font** while Siegfried’s remains in **black font.**

Aglovale didn't wait for his chatelain or majordomo to find him and tell him that Siegfried wasn't there. He searched the castle himself, top to bottom, and then lingered in Siegfried’s sickroom, though the sheets had long ago been changed and the pillows aired and the floors cleaned. He breathed in, wanting to imagine he could still smell the sweat on Siegfried's scarf, but that was long gone too. 

In the end, Aglovale drifted to his windowless war room, with the maps and small black tokens still scattered from his hasty preparations with Siegfried and the crew. He collected them together and adjusted the maps back into their usual position. Some of the locations Siegfried had been sighted in he knew like the back of his hand; he replaced black tokens at these points on the map. Others would have to be re-gathered from intelligence. He called his spymaster in for a report and had him restart those information gathering missions as well. 

He put into motion the legal machinery for seizing the land and property of the minor nobles who conspired against him. He stripped them of their titles and allowed the women, children, and elderly to live in exile. Most of the men were not so lucky. This was the 'iron fist' that noble had so desperately craved, and Aglovale used it without mercy. 

Days and weeks rolled by. The spymaster's reports were slim: his network had been gutted by the removal of the anarchists, which had turned the same sources to their advantage and could no longer be trusted. Aglovale spent a long time studying the maps and tokens, marking the most recent reports from verified sources with one or two black tokens, only to stand up with a sigh and leave the room. 

Aglovale drew up a revitalization plan for the border area and poured money into the effort, overseeing an army of labor. He had new benchmarks surveyed and installed in prominent areas so that future surveying would be accurate. Once, he came across the ravine where he and Siegfried had fallen, and with a little searching, found his crushed pauldrons he had left behind. He held them for a few moments, looking at them and lingering in the memory of chestnut hair in evening sunlight, and then put them back on the rocky slopes, arranged close together. For some reason, he felt like if Siegfried found them like this, he would know that Aglovale had been here. 

Threatened by the first snows of winter, Aglovale stopped construction in the border region and spent more time than ever locked up in his castle, devoting himself to magical studies in solitude, barely emerging from his atelier to eat or drink. Most of his work centered around improving existing tools: millstones for reagents, elemental waterwheels, buried amplifiers which could improve yields for crops. But a few times, he let himself engage in magical play, making a variety of rose which only bloomed in the presence of dragons, or sparkling wine where the bubbles went down instead of up, or candles whose flames circled the wick like birds. 

Many nights he slept on a small bed in an antechamber to his magical workshop, with instructions that he was not, under any circumstances, to be disturbed. 

The White Dragons had their hands full rooting out spies and compromised contacts hiding within the royal court. The anarchists had threatened the hostages and strong-armed many Feendrache villages into remaining silent. Siegfried visited each of these settlements, helping wherever he could to make sure they could recover. He only passed through the capital to visit the graves overlooking the castle's training grounds, offering his prayers upon that verdant ridge before an ache in his chest told him to move on.

In spite of his desire to change, Siegfried would always admit he found comfort in his days of solitude. They quelled his constant inner monologue, those doubts that welled up when he spent too much time anchored in one place. Out here, wandering the hills, there was no one else. It was lonely, but he was content so long as he didn’t need to protect other people from himself.

After weeks of travel, Siegfried had once again crossed the border into Wales. He noticed the newly paved roads, the fields of wheat and vegetables growing lush and full under the late summer heat. His legs carried him back into the mountains, where he stood before the carefully arranged pauldrons and could almost feel the weight of Aglovale's body in his arms, looking up at him with eyes innocent and shining as if he had seen something breathtaking in Siegfried that day. 

He almost thought the memory was too real until he realized he was being drawn to a scent coming from the treeline above. Siegfried followed the incline to a clearing, where he found a wooden stake driven into the ground. It had a white ribbon neatly tied on its end, and as he knelt down he could smell the delicate scent of roses and strawberries. By the following morning Siegfried was long gone, the lone surveyor's mark decorated with a small posy of chamomile and blue salvia in its place.

Leaves turned brilliant shades of deep gold and crimson. The stars continued their steady migration across the night sky. Soon the animals tucked themselves away as the land was covered in the white of the first snow. Siegfried watched as the world was quietly buried beneath him, the small lingering traces of Aglovale all but disappearing into the cold.

Aglovale's study was nestled in the rear of the castle grounds, just high enough to see over its walls and overlook the adjacent thicket of trees. One cold night, the window by the desk was slightly ajar, the rising evening breeze carrying the sounds of the forest from below. A figure sat at the windowsill, tawny brown hair tied back with a white ribbon, his finger smoothing out the petals of a rose blooming scarlet in the light of the moon.

Aglovale had been working on a new kind of cauldron which could be put into extended use for drying solutions and making magical salts for reagents. Run-of-the-mill, boring devices, but trying them out meant leaving them boiling for long periods, which heated up his atelier quite a bit. He'd opened a window during the day, when the sunlight had also been warming up the small space. He got up from his desk, where he'd been reading, and checked on his cauldrons. One of them seemed to be performing well, but the other two didn't look as promising. Reluctantly, he turned off the burners under those two and turned back to his desk, suppressing a yawn. 

Framed in the window closest to him, he saw heavy red blooms on the dormant rosebushes outside. 

Aglovale frowned. Those roses had been developed from a variety he'd toyed with months ago. They _should_ only bloom in the presence of a dragon. He stepped forward to look out; of course there was no dragon in his courtyard, but maybe... or maybe not... it was better to be safe than sorry. 

Aglovale draped a fur-lined heavy cloak over his doublet—there was no need to wear armor in his workshop—and pulled a dagger out of his belt. He unlocked the door leading out onto the terrace and stepped out into the cold night, walking toward the railing. 

The dragon-roses in the garden below were indeed blooming, a brilliant scarlet that seemed to glow under the moonlight. Aglovale's frown deepened. Could it be that the dragon-dampening field, which had not been used in months, was unraveling? That _might_ cause them to bloom, as he did have to include some draconic essence to prime it. Resolving to puzzle it out in the morning, he turned to go back inside, and saw the figure sitting at his window. He brandished his dagger at the same time he registered the armor too black to shine under moonlight. Only one man wore armor like that.

Aglovale lowered his dagger a little; his voice was thin and haunted. "Siegfried?" 

The figure turned towards the sound. Seeing Aglovale made him pause, eyes widened, before he laughed quietly.

"If I knew you were going to point a dagger at me I wouldn't have come, Lord of Frost Aglovale." Siegfried’s smile was soft, teasing.

Aglovale had no idea if his tokens or gestures had been found by Siegfried while he was rambling across hill and dale. By this time, the rumor mill had churned its way through Wales, but instead of rumors about Aglovale beginning in the palace or nobility, they started with the villagers. In the cells underground, they had all heard the same thing Percival did—or didn't. Aglovale famously didn't speak to such rumors. _Let them say that it's true._ At least in the mouths of the people, he and Siegfried might be linked. He grew accustomed to hearing their names together in whispers when he was inspecting projects. 

And up until now, their names side-by-side in a villager's mouth was the closest they'd gotten to each other in months. 

"There is a front gate on the castle," Aglovale admonished Siegfried in return. He tried to put the dagger away and fumbled it twice before finally managing to get it sheathed. "And a schedule of my events is public knowledge." 

He walked toward Siegfried, drawn to him like a moth to a flame.

He chuckled again. Aglovale really was so much like his younger brother, even if he’d freeze him solid before ever admitting it. 

“Then Your Majesty must forgive me for my insolence in seeking an audience with him, especially when he hasn’t made a public appearance in weeks.” Siegfried sat unmoving, letting Aglovale come to him, admiring the way the moonlight shimmered in his hair and illuminated his skin.

Aglovale's hand gathered into a fist as he restrained himself from rushing forward, keeping a measured pace until he was just next to Siegfried. "Is it your insolence that has kept you from returning to my home for so long? You have to know that I have had people tracking you." 

Tracking him and failing to find him half the time, leaving Aglovale starved for any scrap of information about him. He'd gone to see the border lands for himself because he'd hoped that Siegfried would come to him, just like this, and it hadn't happened then. 

"Or something else? Was it..." Aglovale stopped mid-sentence as his eyes caught on the white ribbon, which he'd worn around his arm, next to his skin, in the hopes that Siegfried's dragon blood would be able to find it. He reached out and threaded it between his bare fingers, and then met Siegfried's eyes again, his throat too closed to speak. 

Siegfried's gaze softened as he followed Aglovale's hand tracing the ribbon he’d tied into his hair. Its ends had long become frayed and yellowed from constant exposure to the elements. After some hesitation, Siegfried took Aglovale's hand in his own and pressed his palm to his cheek, sighing as he closed his eyes and breathed in his scent. "I missed you, Aglovale."

His hand jerked as Siegfried took it, as if he couldn't quite believe in the touch, in the warmth, after so many months and such a fragile understanding between them. 

"You left before I returned." Aglovale stepped closer, until they were nearly touching. "I wondered if I imagined everything." The kiss that didn't happen. The kiss that did. Too busy to go back to the places he'd left signs to Siegfried that he'd been there, he at last held the proof that they'd been received. Received and treasured.

"I must be dreaming," he murmured, sliding his thumb over Siegfried's skin. He looked into those eyes, yellow and sweet as dandelion wine. "I have nodded off at my desk and dreamed you here tonight, just like all the other nights." His voice was hushed, as if he might wake himself up with it if he were too loud. 

“I needed time to think.” He leaned into his touch, the icy chill soothing against his heated skin. Siegfried returned Aglovale’s tender look with a gentle smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“In truth... I don’t know if I should have returned.” Siegfried looked down at his lap. “I am a danger to my country and yours. Without a solution for my dragon blood, this can’t last. You know that as well as I do.” And yet, despite his words, Siegfried found himself threading his fingers deeper into Aglovale’s.

A heavy stone settled in Aglovale's stomach, but he ignored it. "Idiot. Of course you should have returned," Aglovale said in a rush, exasperated. Pleading words fell out of him almost faster than he could keep track of what he was saying. "There are still many studies I haven't yet conducted on the dragon nodes. I have been exchanging letters with the alchemist Cagliostro, and she has given me promising leads. There is no greater magician in Wales than me, and no one more driven to find a solution, and—" 

Aglovale finally stopped, searching Siegfried's face for signs that anything would convince him to place his trust in him. He laced his fingers more tightly with Siegfried's, and pulled his hand under his cloak, pressing it against his chest and holding it there to feel his racing heart. 

"I am already yours. Will you not have me?" 

Siegfried’s first reaction was disbelief, that someone would go to so much trouble for him even without him asking. Of course he knew Aglovale cared deeply for him, enough to draw him away from the duties of leading his country for not insignificant periods of time. But what warmed his heart the most was the thought that Aglovale was doing all of this for him—not for Dragonslayer Siegfried, not for Feendrache's great hero—but for Siegfried the man, who never realized how long it had been since someone had looked at him without expecting him to shoulder the world.

Siegfried looked up at Aglovale. His eyes shone like amber catching the heat of flickering embers. He could feel Aglovale's pulse beneath his fingers tapping in hurried staccato, only keeping time because he was anxiously waiting for Siegfried to reply. He searched for the right words, opened his mouth as if to speak, but nothing that came to mind felt right. His own quickening heartbeat drowned out what remained of his cluttered thoughts. Before the impulse could leave him, Siegfried rose to his feet, and with one motion tangled his fingers in Aglovale's hair and pressed their lips together. When he was sure he was willing, he closed his eyes and took in the sensation of his skin flush against Aglovale's, parting his lips slightly to run the tip of his tongue across his bottom lip. His free hand wrapped around Aglovale's waist to gently pull him in.

Aglovale's imploring expression pushed against Siegfried, and the longer he waited for an answer, the tighter he held Siegfried's hand against his chest. His heart felt as if it was being scooped out by those amber eyes the longer they gave him that sad look. He was on the brink of giving up and throwing away even his pride when Siegfried stepped forward and took him in his arms. 

Aglovale stiffened at Siegfried's first touch of Siegfried's lips against his, letting out a shuddering breath against his cheek. Closing his eyes, he turned his head into the kiss, his cool fingers threading through Siegfried's hair. And almost instantly, he melted against him like spun sugar over a fire, inviting Siegfried's tongue into his mouth. Siegfried kissed him breathless. Their bodies molded together, as in a passionate dance; Aglovale let Siegfried lead, clinging to him. And when it drifted to its natural conclusion, Aglovale opened his eyes, looking at Siegfried with a slightly awed face. 

Siegfried's expression mirrored Aglovale's as he pulled back, panting softly. He was reminded of the boyish, innocent look he saw when he had caught Aglovale in his arms: widened eyes, disheveled hair, cheeks dusted pink. But this time, there were no misunderstandings to keep them apart. Siegfried smiled, warmer and brighter than ever before, and pressed his forehead to Aglovale's. 

“Stay with me,” he whispered, closing his eyes.

Aglovale saw the same boyish charm in Siegfried's face: his lips parted, his eyes dark with excitement. His heartbeat was thundering in his ears at his return, his closeness, his kiss. His breath made a small cloud in front of him as he let out a shaky sigh, leaning into Siegfried's weight. 

"For as long as you wish, and longer," he replied. Then he tugged at Siegfried's hand, pulling him along to the door into his atelier, out of the cold, dark night and into the warmth of the very heart of Wales. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chamomile: patience  
> Blue salvia: “I think of you.”
> 
> This chapter has been posted along with the final chapter, which is NSFW. Readers who do not want to continue on may stop here.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **This chapter has been posted at the same time as Chapter 6. This is also the NSFW chapter.**
> 
> As a reminder, this chapter has been retained in its original roleplay format. Aglovale’s thoughts and dialogue are in **blue font** while Siegfried’s remains in **black font.**

Aglovale closed the door behind them. His experimental magical cauldron was still boiling away, warming the space. His inclination was to ring for servants, to have the finest bed in the palace (aside from his own, of course) made up for him, so that he could rest in the lap of luxury. 

But as he took his heavy cloak off and hung it up, he realized that Siegfried might be uncomfortable with such fine things. After all, the man did seem to be able to sleep in his armor in a cold cave without being the worse for wear. So it was just a matter of what Siegfried wanted. If he desired the best room in the palace, it was his. If he wanted the small but comfortable bed in Aglovale's workshop, he could have that as well. It was true that the bed in here wasn't particularly luxurious, but making it more luxurious would encourage indolence, and Aglovale enjoyed working. 

It was then that his eyes lit on the dragon-rose, still clutched in Siegfried's hand. Indoors, in Siegfried's hand, it glowed a pure red, as if a mote of light was concealed in the center of the petals. Aglovale looked to Siegfried's face, soft in the low lighting. He had made the roses to react to dragon blood, to be beautiful in Siegfried's hand. It had been something of an idle fancy, like writing 'Siegfried of Wales' in small cursive script on bits of parchment (which he then burned.)

"The roses are prettier than I thought they would be," he said.

Siegfried took a cursory glance around the room. It was by no means as large or luxurious as he would have expected Aglovale to demand in every bedchamber. Various magical implements sat clustered around his desk, with a small space cleared for official documents and ledgers for his review. A number of tomes were stacked almost haphazardly, a few opened to dog-eared pages with Aglovale's handwriting scrawled into the margins. He watched Aglovale shrug his cloak off his shoulders, noting how well his tailored doublet curved snugly around his waistline. Distracted with the thought of wrapping his arms around it, Siegfried nearly startled when Aglovale spoke. He looked down at the dragon-rose, still glowing softly and illuminating the small space around his hand in a warm scarlet light. 

"I was quite surprised when they started blooming in front of me." The sight was still fresh in his mind's eye: just as Siegfried had cleared the top of the garden wall, an entire hedge of rosebushes began to glow a deep, hazy red as the buds sprang to life, unfurling into beautiful roses. Each one glowed brighter the closer he got, as if his presence stoked the coals of some small unseen fire. Siegfried had absentmindedly plucked one of the flowers, the color reminding him of Aglovale's brilliant ruby eyes. Now that he was here facing him, Siegfried smiled at the thought that his memories of Aglovale had never dulled in the time they spent apart.

It was in this moment that Siegfried, despite knowing the night might lead to this situation, realized he was unsuitably dressed for the occasion. Without a word he leaned his greatsword against the wall and began removing his armor, each piece falling away from his body until he had stripped down to his own padded jacket and breeches. Without waiting for Aglovale to invite him, he sat at the foot of the bed and gazed at Aglovale expectantly with a small smile.

Watching Siegfried remove his armor sparked a curious sensation in Aglovale. He was eager to see the man underneath it, and his rose-colored memories of Siegfried helping him with his gauntlet had primed him to want to help Siegfried with his. But Siegfried seemed perfectly capable of taking off all his own armor without Aglovale's help. In the space where Aglovale was doing nothing but looking at the body of the man he loved being revealed to him for the first time, a small thought grew more insistent. 

_Doesn't he usually sleep in his armor?_

And then...

_If he sleeps in his armor, why is he taking it off?_

It wouldn't do to make assumptions, especially when they had just been reunited after so long. Siegfried looked up at Aglovale with his soft, direct gaze, his small smile that seemed to invite Aglovale closer to the bed and Aglovale blushed, from the tips of his ears to the tip of his nose. He couldn't quite meet Siegfried's eyes, but hurriedly sat down on the bed next to him. 

Without the armor, Aglovale could feel the heat radiating off his body, and his blush deepened as Siegfried's words from earlier echoed in his mind: _stay with me._ So pink he was practically steaming, he reached out and took Siegfried's hand, lacing their fingers together again. 

Siegfried would never tire of how Aglovale—composed, indomitable Aglovale—could be reduced to a shy man who could scarcely look into Siegfried's eyes and was holding his hand as a young boy would with his first love. Surely a man like Aglovale, with his looks and all that Wales' had to offer at the wave of a hand, had no problems courting many others before him. If it was just Siegfried in particular who made Aglovale feel this way, he could hardly find a good reason why.

Being the conduits for his ice magic, Aglovale's hands were chilly, though not uncomfortably so. Siegfried could feel how long and slender his fingers were, befitting his elegance, yet he could still run his fingertip along the rough calluses on Aglovale’s palm, built up from years of sword training. Sensing Aglovale's hesitation, Siegfried found himself taking the lead again, slowly picking up where they had left off by leaning forward and nuzzling the nape of his neck.

Aglovale, the Lord of Frost, scion of Wales, the eldest brother, had certain expectations on his shoulders. It was not a problem for him—he is the King—but it did mean that his interactions with others in his kingdom could never be 'normal'. In the past, he had only been able to be himself with other members of the royal family, who didn't have the expectations of regular subjects. After their father's death and their parting of ways, Aglovale craved interactions with others, to the point of going out in public in disguise. But his blond hair, red eyes, and slight chill always revealed his identity eventually.

Siegfried, a foreigner who treated him like a regular man in spite of his status, would have been exciting even if he wasn't strong and beautiful. That he was also kind and gentle, and had saved Wales and his life was enough to claim Aglovale's heart. 

Which is all to say that this most regular and normal interaction—being physically close with another human being—was unusual in and of itself. That it was Siegfried, that it was late at night in his most private chambers, that they were on the edge of his bed... his excitement was running away with him. His heart beat a wild rhythm as Siegfried leaned over. Warmed by his blood, his skin flushed with heat, making the strawberry-rose scent of his skin rise up into the air. Aglovale couldn't hold back a gasp at the touch of Siegfried's nose against his neck. He pulled his hair to the side, baring more of his neck in invitation. 

Siegfried breathed in, the intoxicating smell of Aglovale's skin almost overwhelming in its intensity. He was almost conditioned to seek it out like some reward, like when he tracked down Aglovale's ribbon in the mountains. Siegfried pressed a line of kisses across his nape and up along his jawline. Every small gasp that escaped Aglovale's lips was another invitation for him to push just a little further, until he found himself panting softly while gently nipping at the folds of his ear with his teeth. One hand had snaked its way into Aglovale's hair while the other slid lower to wrap around his waist, pulling them closer together.

It was entirely too warm now to be trapped in his thick doublet. Aglovale pulled at the fastenings, letting the fabric gape open. His shirt underneath was finely woven cotton, slightly damp with sweat, and the cold air (or was it the anticipation?) made him shiver. 

Only as Siegfried pulled their bodies closer together was he able to get over the mild shock of being touched so familiarly. His returning confidence put his fingers to work trying to find the buttons of Siegfried's gambeson, fumbling them through the holes, pulling it apart. It was just difficult work when Siegfried's lips against his ear were rendering him unable to think. He was already in quite an aroused state, and it was only going to become more obvious the longer Siegfried nibbled at his earlobe. Aglovale slid his hands under the edge of the quilted fabric. He encircled Siegfried's body in return, feeling the way Siegfried's skin gave under his fingertips.

Siegfried made a small noise against Aglovale’s ear as his breath caught softly in his throat. The cold drifting across his heated skin sharpened every sensation of Aglovale’s fingers gliding around his sides and across his shoulder blades. It made him shudder, every muscle across his back drawn tightly underneath his icy touch. Absentmindedly, he wondered if Aglovale’s lower half would also be as cold and had to suppress the urge to laugh, though his thoughts leading in this direction only made Siegfried more aware of how just being touched by Aglovale was threatening to unravel every coherent thread in his mind. 

Siegfried’s hands pushed away Aglovale’s doublet before one found its way under the hem of his shirt, the rough pads of his fingertips skating up his abdomen and coming to settle at his chest. With his other hand, Siegfried coaxed Aglovale into turning his face towards him so he could claim his lips in another kiss while giving the small nub underneath his index finger an experimental flick.

Aglovale took Siegfried's instruction well, stripping off his doublet and leaving it in a pile on the floor. He had barely had the chance to get his hands under Siegfried's quilted jacket when Siegfried's broad, warm hand touched his bare skin. He sucked in a sharp breath, only to have it stolen from him by another of Siegfried's kisses. The touch of his nipple drew a delighted hum from his lips, but he didn't break the kiss until several moments later. 

Sitting next to each other wasn't close enough any more; he wanted to be closer to Siegfried, enveloped in his arms. Wordlessly, Aglovale shifted over, straddling Siegfried's lap. He pushed the gambeson off Siegfried's shoulders, leaving him in his thin shirt. His red eyes smouldering like the dragon-rose, he dipped his head and began to kiss along Siegfried's jaw up to his ear. 

It was an unfamiliar feeling for Siegfried, learning to relax his shoulders and pliantly crane his neck to the side to allow Aglovale free access. He felt vulnerable, so much so that Aglovale's warm breath brushing over his jugular made him want to jerk back and coil his body, ready to strike. Instead, he distracted himself by burying his nose in Aglovale's hair, taking in that sweet cocktail of icy strawberries and rose petals. In close proximity, the scent of roses was almost overpowering, but it also filled Siegfried's mind with indecent thoughts he had no intention of voicing and every intention of experiencing for himself.

With one hand still on Aglovale's chest, Siegfried continued to gently tease his nipple between the hardened pads of his fingertips. He relished in the small noises he drew out of Aglovale, who was now at his side mouthing his earlobe. Shifting, Siegfried let his other hand roam the expanse of his back, tracing lines across his shoulder blades and following each individual ridge of his spine down to the small of his back. Aglovale, trained though he was with a blade, was still a king living in halls of fine silk and plush beds; he was lean, but his skin was fair and all too soft under Siegfried's rugged touch. He knew well that Aglovale was anything but brittle, but his lovely features would make Siegfried think twice about gripping anything too tightly lest he accidentally hurt him.

The fingers resting at Aglovale’s hips drew lazy patterns into his skin for some time before Siegfried decided to push underneath the line of his shirt again, encouraging Aglovale to shed that final layer so he could finally see him exposed.

The fingers at his hips were driving Aglovale mad, teasing at the waistband of his breeches. Every circle Siegfried traced out was just a small point of pressure, but it moved Aglovale's whole body. His breathing shuddered as he ground against Siegfried, a taste of what the night would bring. When Siegfried began sliding his hands up under his shirt, it took him a moment to realize what Siegfried wanted, but he stripped his shirt off over his head without a second thought. 

Aglovale did indeed have a king's pampered, unblemished body. Siegfried had teased his nipples into small pink peaks, like strawberries in a dish of sweet cream. Although he had some muscle, his slender waist was even more pronounced out of his clothes, his hips softly curved. His pauldrons and structured doublet hid that his shoulders weren't very brawny, more in keeping with a wizard than a warrior. 

He pulled at Siegfried's shirt, encouraging him to remove this barrier between them. 

Compared to Aglovale, long hours under the sun had dyed Siegfried's face a warm tan, though the rest of his body was considerably lighter because of his armor. Even with his thin shirt on, it was easy to trace the peaks and troughs on his well-built frame; his sturdy arms, broad shoulders, and sinewy back muscles the result of daily training to handle his unwieldy greatsword with both power and speed. 

When Aglovale tugged insistently at the fabric, Siegfried needed no additional prompting to tell him what to do; off came his shirt amid unhurried kisses along Aglovale's bare collarbones. Now he could pull his body flush against him, shuddering at the chill of Aglovale's skin mixing with the heat radiating from his. Growing ever more impatient, Siegfried hugged him tightly and pulled him down onto the mattress, never straying far enough to lose the friction between their hips as he claimed Aglovale's lips in a hungry, open-mouthed kiss.

Aglovale ground forward against Siegfried, slotting himself on one of Siegfried's muscled thighs. His hands wandered freely, leaving ribbons of cool sensation in their wake. He reached down between them, fiddling with the buttons on Siegfried's breeches. Suddenly his hand stopped and his questing lips stilled. 

He pushed Siegfried onto his back and stared openly at the bulge in his pants. "By the skies," he muttered. He couldn't help but pinion Siegfried with a look that was equal parts accusation and desire. "That will take some work," he said, and leaned up off the bed, disappearing into another part of his workshop. There was a sound of bottles clinking, and then Aglovale re-appeared with three of them held between his fingers. He set the bottles on a low table next to the bed and rejoined Siegfried on the bed, his cheeks flushed. He'd apparently done some research some time ago on this matter. As with his kingdom, Aglovale did not like being unprepared. 

In the manner of a man soothing his own anxieties, he reached out and touched Siegfried's taut stomach before leaning over him and planting a kiss on it. From the way he was unbuttoning Siegfried's breeches, and the movement of his mouth down Siegfried's body, he had something planned. 

Siegfried sighed breathily as Aglovale straddled his thigh, the perfect position for Aglovale to angle his knee into Siegfried’s groin. In the past, his duties as captain meant his days were filled with sword training, strategy planning, and stuffy meetings with nobles and advisors from the king's court. He’d find reprieves here and there, but Siegfried essentially had no time to himself—tending to his own physical needs was simply not a priority. If he was particularly distracted, Siegfried dealt with his urges unceremoniously and went right back to his duties. So to be able to let himself feel the full depths of his arousal was a welcome experience, especially with Aglovale seeming determined to map out every inch of Siegfried’s body between his fingers and tongue. 

When Aglovale stopped moving and pinned him with his scrutinizing gaze, Siegfried's first thought was whether he had done something wrong. He propped himself up on his elbows, watching Aglovale place the glass bottles on the nightstand. Whatever he had in mind, Aglovale seemed nervous. Siegfried's stomach involuntarily tensed as he gazed at him sliding further down and he reached out to put a hand on the top of his head. "You don't have to."

Aglovale's anxiety came mostly from Siegfried being more than he'd ever thought to practice handling. He'd produced his own potions and lubricants, tried out models of various shapes and sizes, before settling on one that he decided was a serviceable one. Looking at what was before him, he thought he should have erred on the side of something larger. 

Hearing Siegfried's voice, he lifted his head and pulled Siegfried's hand around to his lips, pressing a kiss into his palm. One of his eyebrows quirked teasingly and his voice sank into an indulgent purr. "My Siegfried, I am the king. I will do as I please in my own castle." 

And then as if to underscore this declaration, he unbuttoned Siegfried's breeches the rest of the way and pushed them off his hips, freeing his cock. Without hesitating, Aglovale took Siegfried in hand, giving him a few lazy strokes. Then he tucked his hair behind his ear so Siegfried could watch him, and bent down. Even in this he was tender, kissing up Siegfried's length before licking his lips and taking the head in his mouth. 

The sight of Aglovale’s delicate lips next to his cock made a shudder ride up his spine. It was easy to imagine thrusting into that small mouth, reducing that haughty tone of voice to the wet sounds of Aglovale moaning around his length, but he shook his head to snap out of his fantasies and shifted to try and hold Aglovale back.

“Really, it’s fi-...” Siegfried began, but as Aglovale took him into his mouth he stuttered, the rest of his words melting into a quiet gasp. He hissed when he felt Aglovale’s tongue press against his slit, drawing circles around the tip as if he had practiced this a thousand times, the corners of Aglovale’s lips pulled up in a confident smile. If he wanted to do this so much, Siegfried wouldn’t stop him—though knowing Aglovale’s self-confidence, he was probably going to push himself too far. Siegfried leaned forward so he could run his fingers through Aglovale’s hair, gently tugging to encourage him.

Aglovale was the kind of man who enjoyed a challenge. Conquering other countries, opening gates to the Otherworld, subduing a rampaging Dragonslayer; he was not daunted by any task. This was no different. He devoted himself to tasting every part of Siegfried with his tongue. He bobbed his head, trying to get more of him into his mouth with each movement. He teased Siegfried slowly, but mercilessly, looking up at him and making eye contact as his lips played back and forth over the edge of his cockhead. 

All the while, Siegfried's fingers tangled in his hair, tugging gently at his scalp and making a certain kind of pleasure flood Aglovale's body. It swept over his skin, tingling and warm. He looked up at Siegfried through his lashes, his eyes dark and unfocused. He moved as if through honey, without any hurry behind his movements or regard for his own unsatisfied body. He had waited for this for too long to rush it now. 

Siegfried wasn’t normally given to strong desires like revenge and jealousy: he never cared what others thought of him, which made it easy to detach himself from situations and remain impartial. At most, his personal opinions were subservient to his duties and rarely allowed to influence his actions. But as he watched Aglovale melt before his eyes, looking at him with that hazy, faraway gaze, something buried deep below his rationality began to rear its head. Something dark, impatient, _possessive._ Its talons circled around Siegfried’s wrists. 

You’ve been too lenient with him, it crooned.

_Put him in his place._

Aglovale would only have a brief flash of a hungry shadow crossing Siegfried’s hooded eyes as warning, before he suddenly pushed his face down onto his cock.

Aglovale was blissfully enjoying the hypnotic rhythm of taking Siegfried's dick into his mouth over and over when he felt those strong fingers tighten in his hair. He barely had time to look up, to see that Siegfried's face had changed, and the recognition made him shudder. 

It was the same Siegfried that had stalked across the coals in the cave, who only showed his face in the darkness of night, near the light of a fire. Aglovale had no other warning; his lazy, roundabout blowjob came to an end as Siegfried shoved all of himself into Aglovale's throat. 

Eyes wide, Aglovale's relaxed, pliant body accommodated the first stroke easily. When Siegfried withdrew, he sucked in a breath before there was no room in his mouth for air, and Siegfried filled him again, and again. He held himself still in Siegfried's lap, yielding to him completely. It was only an accident of the angle that pressed unforgivingly into the back of his throat. Aglovale jerked his head free with a cough, turning his face away. He couldn't help a weak chuckle as he wiped his mouth. "Was I taking too long?" 

There was a small part of Siegfried that was honestly surprised that Aglovale hadn't gagged, though the rest of him was too busy fucking Aglovale's mouth to care. The heat and wetness encircling him made Siegfried's thoughts go blank, the only thing tangible in that white static being Aglovale's hazy eyes looking at him like he still wanted more. Siegfried obliged that idea, pushed deeper in than he had before, but it wasn't until he felt the back of Aglovale's throat constricting and heard him coughing that he snapped out of his daze.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn’t have pushed you." Siegfried reached over to pat his back, but he met Aglovale with a half-lidded gaze and that rare smile, a relaxed curl playing at the corners of his lips. It was entirely reminiscent of a cat staring at its frantic owner while pushing a vase over with its paw.

"But you seemed like you were having too much fun for your own good, _Your Majesty._ "

A frisson of pleasure ran through Aglovale's body at hearing Siegfried purr 'Your Majesty'. He had idle thoughts of making Siegfried a knight of Wales—or better, a Prince Consort. Siegfried's loyalty to Feendrache was too great for him to ever consider leaving. Aglovale knew that before his feelings for Siegfried ever developed. But hearing it now that they were like this, furtive lovers grabbing at each other in the night? Keeping Siegfried at his side forever didn't seem so impossible. 

"You were having your own kind of fun," Aglovale retorted as he kicked off his boots. He stood up, unbuttoned his breeches and pushed them and his smallclothes down around his thighs. A large, visible wet spot on the front of his breeches was a testament to his excitement. Fully naked, he selected one of the bottles on the low table and pulled out the stopper. 

"I wasn't expecting you, so it may take a while for me to be ready," Aglovale said. He gestured with the bottle, which appeared to be some sort of lube. "If I finish you off, can you go twice in one night?" 

Siegfried seemed completely unfazed by Aglovale's question, even putting a hand to his chin and humming in contemplation. One half of him wanted to say that he could wait, that they had been apart long enough and just a little while longer wouldn't hurt. The other half of him was far less patient: of _course_ he could finish and go for another round, especially when Aglovale looking so flushed and hard without even touching him made Siegfried's mouth go dry with anticipation.

Then he realized what exactly what Aglovale had meant by getting "ready." He looked down at himself, then back up, staring at the relatively flat silhouette of Aglovale's ass. Siegfried couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at him. 

He swore Aglovale's overconfidence was going to be the end of him someday. 

"Aglovale..."

The man in front of him had his full attention; nothing short of war would keep him from his goal. 

But Siegfried didn't necessarily have to know that at quite this moment. "Then for now you may watch," he said, his voice husky. "Maybe it will help you decide." 

Aglovale uncorked the bottle as he spoke, pouring a clear fluid out onto his fingers. Boldly, he wrapped his slick hand around Siegfried's length, stroking him. At first, his movements were neither too strong or too weak, merely trying to maintain Siegfried's interest. But then he lay back on the bed, smiling at Siegfried while he made himself comfortable. Stretched out in front of Siegfried, Aglovale met his eyes as he reached between his legs. 

The idea that Aglovale was putting on a show for him didn't cross his mind, not at first. The better part of Siegfried's conscience told him he should look away and give Aglovale his privacy, especially for something that didn't directly involve his participation. 

But Siegfried couldn't tear his gaze away when Aglovale spread his legs, eyes pinned to his slender fingers slowly circling his entrance before he pushed one in. If Siegfried had lost any of his interest while worrying over him, it now came roaring back with twice the force in the presence of Aglovale's shaky breaths and soft mewls. Siegfried leaned forward and swallowed thickly, the sight of Aglovale's knuckles disappearing inside him making his lower half throb impatiently. With his heartbeat pounding loudly in his ears and his eyes growing dark, Siegfried moved his hand to stroke himself in time to Aglovale's fingers.

With one finger stretching himself open, Aglovale watched Siegfried's movements through half-closed eyes, a soft smile playing about his lips. He noticed that whenever he moved his fingers faster, Siegfried also sped up his movements. When he slowed, Siegfried also slowed. Even though they weren't physically joined yet, Siegfried was matching his desire. 

He sat up and poured a little more lube onto his fingers, smearing it into himself with abandon. His lips parted as he started to tease a second fingertip into his hole. Aglovale spread his legs wide, presenting himself to Siegfried's eyes, beckoning him closer with the hungry roll of his hips. He wanted _more_ , and there was only one man could give it to him. 

Even Siegfried got the hint by now. He crawled forward to Aglovale's side, trailing a line of kisses up from his chest to his jawline before he hovered above him, noses nearly touching.

"Don't stop," Siegfried said, his voice low and hungry in the back of his throat as he closed the distance between them. He pushed past Aglovale's parted lips, tangling their tongues together, trying to keep his breathing steady and failing miserably as Aglovale melted in his hands. Not wanting to leave him purely to his own devices, Siegfried reached down and curled his fingers around Aglovale's cock, noticing with a sly smile that it was already slick with lube and precum. His hooded gaze never left Aglovale's eyes as he stroked him at a languid pace, hoping to help him relax enough to stretch another finger inside him.

Aglovale matched the ardor of Siegfried's kiss, crushing their mouths together. This alone would have been enough to satisfy him while he prepared, but Siegfried had loftier aspirations. 

He moaned into the kiss at the first tight, slippery pull of Siegfried's fist around his erection. "Siegfried," he groaned. "You're..." He stopped and started again, a whine tingeing his breathing. He was unable to decide what he wanted to say, or even how to make his mouth work long enough to say it. Aglovale pushed his hips up into Siegfried's hand, but Siegfried maintained the same speed no matter what. He wouldn't let his arousal wither away, but he also wouldn’t let him build too high. 

Aglovale could get most of two fingers in himself now. He fucked himself slowly, trying to match what Siegfried was doing, only to want to go faster, and if he did that, it would be over all too quickly. 

"It won't be long," he ground out. "Until I'm ready for you." Aglovale's red gaze met Siegfried's, heavy with yearning and desire. "Siegfried..."

"Shh... Don't push yourself too quickly," he whispered, gently cupping Aglovale's cheek. His lust made no effort to hide itself in Siegfried's husky voice, but after watching Aglovale unraveling in front of him, he was possessed of the idea Aglovale was probably going to hurt himself in his impatience. Siegfried briefly glanced over before his hand slid down to Aglovale's slick fingers, half-buried in his ass.

"I know it's a lot for you already," Siegfried said, whispering at the corner of Aglovale's lips. He took hold of Aglovale's hand, wrapping around the base of three fingers. "But you need to stretch just a little more." Keeping his grip firm, Siegfried claimed Aglovale's lips in another kiss as he slowly pushed, trying to ease a third fingertip in, ready to stop if Aglovale gave any indication of it being too much.

Siegfried could already tell that Aglovale was at the end of his tested experience. Not usually an impatient man, Aglovale had spent years planning Feendrache's invasion—before his plans were foiled by the man with him in bed right now. To know his limits before he himself knew them, there was no one Aglovale could trust more. 

The third finger began to squeeze inside next to the other two. It would be a slow process no matter what he did, but he wasn't expecting a lance of burning pain so soon. He stiffened up, hiding a hiss in a shuddering breath. Siegfried must have felt his hand shake as he pulled back; holding Aglovale's wrist as he was, he couldn't have missed it. 

Undaunted, Aglovale turned his head to the side, looking at the low table and the bottles on it. "The pink one," he said, naming a bottle they hadn't used yet, but which contained healing magic and a mild aphrodisiac that the plain lube didn't. "If you would?" 

Siegfried pulled back, frowning, but leaned over to reach for one of the bottles on the table. He sat back, looking curiously at the pink liquid before handing it to Aglovale.

"You don't have to do this," Siegfried murmured, thinking back to how sharply Aglovale gasped and how his wrist trembled in his hand. "We can always try this another time. I don't want you to hurt yourself for me."

Aglovale pulled the stopper out with his teeth and spit it out onto the floor; he was much too far gone now to care about his image. Instead of training his body with something larger, he'd created this 'insurance policy' instead: a lube that could soothe any pain while encouraging a lustful response that would relax the body and reduce the likelihood that he’d be hurt in the first place. 

"Don't be ridiculous," Aglovale said, pushing Siegfried's concerns over his pain to the side. "The only reason people withstand pain at all is for love. This is no different." 

He tipped the bottle over his fingers, drizzling them with the faintly rose-scented liquid when he realized the words that had come out of his mouth. His eyes slowly lifted to meet Siegfried's, somehow more vulnerable than even a few moments before, despite the fact that he was in exactly the same position. 

Siegfried's brow furrowed slightly seeing Aglovale seemingly ignoring his offer. Was this just the stubbornness of a king that didn't know how to take no for an answer? A part of him wished that Aglovale wouldn’t try so hard for his sake; in the grand scheme of things, having Aglovale being able to satisfy Siegfried this way was hardly that important to him, especially if Aglovale was overexerting himself to do it. As long as Aglovale accepted him, that was enough.

He sighed, mouth open and about to protest when he stopped at the same time Aglovale froze. Whatever ideas he had died in his throat as he stared at Aglovale with widened eyes. A full second passed before Siegfried turned his head to the side, trying to cover his smile with his hand to save Aglovale the embarrassment of seeing him laugh.

The laughter didn't seem like he was laughing _at_ Aglovale. If Siegfried had not been at least open to the idea of love, he likely wouldn't have returned to Aglovale at all. Instead, it seemed like the soft chuckle of someone to whom something had just been revealed dramatically, and it was something he already knew. 

Never one to back down from something, Aglovale felt the words sitting on his tongue. He could just open his mouth and they would spill out of him, bold and naked as he was, but it seemed almost superfluous, given the way he'd already said it and the position he was in, spread-eagled in front of Siegfried with his ass half-stretched open to receive him. "Laugh if you wish," he muttered. "But I'm not going to stop." 

Setting the bottle aside, Aglovale tilted his hips up and pushed two fingers back into himself. The healing magic eased the sting in his ass as he widened himself, and the third fingertip fit in easily after just a moment. Though it was not yet pleasurable, Aglovale let out a long breath he didn't realize he was holding. 

"No, I'm sorry," Siegfried said, turning back to meet Aglovale's blushing face. "That's the first time I've heard you say that." He smiled warmly. Not that it mattered to Siegfried whether Aglovale would ever say anything at all, if the situation they were currently in was anything to go by. Aglovale chose to keep his thoughts hidden and clearly didn't intend for them to be heard, nor was Siegfried ever one to pry. In fact, it almost sounded like Aglovale wasn't even aware of the true nature of his feelings for Siegfried himself, with how he froze up. Siegfried had laughed, not to make light of Aglovale's confession, but because his love was so plainly obvious that he was sure everyone in Wales _except_ Aglovale was aware of the fact. 

Siegfried let his earlier reservations go, seeing as how Aglovale was determined not to end the night without achieving his goals. He reached out to pat Aglovale's head, brushing back some of his hair as he watched the third finger slip in. "Is that better?" 

Aglovale's feelings were something he'd allowed for himself only in the utmost privacy. Siegfried had gained acceptance to every sanctum—castle, king, and heart. It was only a matter of time before he heard the thoughts that had been echoing around the holy-of-holies for months. Aglovale drank in his touch, able to sink back into pleasure without the threat of pain. He nodded in reply to Siegfried's question. "Yes, it... helps." He shuddered as his fingers passed over that spot inside his body. "This one should have been the first one I chose." 

As the healing worked, the aphrodisiac did as well. His desire fanned by Siegfried's proximity and the delicious pleasure building in his body, he wrapped his legs loosely around Siegfried, encouraging him to come closer. 

He obliged, coming around to settle in front of Aglovale's hips. Siegfried opened the pink bottle of lube that Aglovale had been using, not realizing its intended effects as he smeared some on himself. The heat that soon enveloped him was dizzying, pushed him towards one thought and one thought only. Siegfried barely had to work himself before he felt ready, pressing the tip against his entrance. 

"Aglovale." His voice was quiet, hungry, but he gave Aglovale a gentle look as he laced their fingers together on the mattress. "Promise me you will put aside your pride and tell me if this is too much. Please."

Siegfried leaned over him and Aglovale's pulse quickened. He should have warned Siegfried about the liquid's effects, but it probably didn't matter at this point. In the low light of his workshop, he nodded quickly as an answer to Siegfried's words, already inching his body closer. 

The first push of Siegfried's cock against his hole seemed almost like his body wouldn't give, and then, as soon as Aglovale felt like it might be too much, Siegfried slid inside him. An absolutely indecent moan rose out of his mouth. He gripped Siegfried's hand tightly. 

He stopped as soon as Aglovale had cried out, biting back a groan of his own. Even with just the tip inside, Aglovale felt impossibly tight around him, constricting around him so much so that he had a brief doubt whether he'd be able to pull out at all. He waited, seeing whether Aglovale would give in. When nothing happened, he pushed in a little further, stopping again when Aglovale nearly arched his back off the mattress. This cycle continued: Siegfried pausing, inching forward, stopping to soothe Aglovale with quiet murmurs of affection, until Siegfried felt like he could go no further. He leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss to the corner of Aglovale's mouth, waiting.

Aglovale's ass ached; the healing magic was working, but it didn't ease that splitting feeling of fullness. Every time Siegfried's weight shifted, he couldn't hold back a whimper. He was unbearably sensitive to every small push of Siegfried's hips. There was so _much_ of him, and every push only went so far. It felt like he would never be all the way in. 

Then he was, and Aglovale turned his head to capture Siegfried's lips in a deep kiss. Finally, his wish fulfilled. He whispered Siegfried's name like a prayer into his mouth, and with his legs around him, urged him to move. 

Siegfried set a slow pace, his first few thrusts shallow and forgiving. His eyes never left Aglovale's face, pretty and fragile with his kingly presence stripped away. Every small murmur of his name coaxed Siegfried into pushing just a little faster, growing into a steady rhythm of his hips drawing out more of those desperate sounds from Aglovale's lips. Siegfried kept his weight on his hands propped up on either side of Aglovale, occasionally leaning down to indulge him in another kiss amidst heated murmurs and strained breaths.

"Siegfried..." Aglovale groaned as Siegfried shifted his weight; every thrust into him seemed to draw on some hidden well of pleasure. He hadn't even touched himself yet, but fluid dripped from the tip of his cock anyway, nearly as often as Aglovale murmured Siegfried's name. Hungrily, he begged for kisses, breathing a particularly lewd moan into Siegfried's ear as their hips met. He pulled Siegfried closer with his thighs, pressing his heels against his backside. "Siegfried... more..."

Siegfried answered his requests eagerly, keeping his pace steady as he pushed in further with every thrust. He shifted his weight, allowing his hands to roam over every inch of Aglovale's shuddering body, raking his rough, calloused fingers over every curve and dip. He took a particular interest in teasing Aglovale's nipples and watching his eyes roll back in pleasure, eyelashes fluttering as Siegfried fucked him senseless. With Aglovale so tightly wrapped around him, his legs pushing Siegfried in deeper, his walls closing around him, it wasn't long before Siegfried's rhythm grew fast and erratic, his intense smoldering gaze boring into Aglovale's eyes. "Aglovale... I'm..."

"Siegfried!" Aglovale arched up off the bed, meeting him for every thrust. His fingernails carved furrows into Siegfried's back as Siegfried's hands and mouth drove him to delirium. He wasn't close to orgasm; it was difficult to build without jerking himself off, after all. But it didn't stop him from being rendered half-mad with pleasure. Held rapt by Siegfried's eyes, Aglovale barely heard and registered Siegfried's softly growled warning. He let out a low groan of anticipation and gave a quick nod, granting Siegfried blanket permission to go ahead and come already, wherever he liked. 

That mounting pressure wound into his veins, into every inch of his skin. With a low growl, Siegfried rutted hard, finally losing himself and choking back a loud groan as he came deep inside Aglovale. Strength abandoned his limbs and Aglovale has to bear the weight of Siegfried collapsed on top of him, panting heavily with their bodies pressed flush together. As his breathing slowed and the haze of the moment cleared, Siegfried pushed himself up on an elbow, brushing stray strands of hair away from Aglovale's face and pressing a long kiss to his temple.

Aglovale rocked his hips in time with Siegfried’s, accepting all the force in his body. The strained voice that fell out of him was music to Aglovale’s ears, and he welcomed the change in tempo as Siegfried passed the point of no return. He was heavy, but it was a delight to feel his full weight on top of him, pressing him into the bed. Aglovale wrapped his arms around Siegfried’s shoulders in a garland, pressing kisses into his hair until he received one in return. 

When Siegfried regained his senses, Aglovale looked at him, a little starry-eyed, and so blissful he didn’t want to shatter the moment with words. 

Siegfried laughed quietly at the wonder in Aglovale’s eyes. They stayed together like that for a while, with the soft sound of their breathing the only thing breaking the silence. Finally, Siegfried pushed himself up, looking between them.

"You didn't come," Siegfried said matter-of-factly, making a small noise as he shifted and pulled out. He moved to sit at Aglovale's side, giving Aglovale's length a few strokes before taking the tip into his mouth. He didn't actually have any experience with blowjobs, but to Siegfried, the idea seemed simple enough: keep a tight seal, don't graze with your teeth, use lots of tongue. He worked his jaw to take Aglovale in deeper, suppressing the urge to cough while breathing steadily through his nose. Siegfried gave Aglovale a sidelong glance, brown locks of hair plastered to his forehead, eyes half-lidded, cheeks flushed and lips wrapped tightly around the base. Feeling the tip grazing the back of his throat, Siegfried hummed around Aglovale's cock, more of an innocent question of "Is this alright?" than anything else.

Aglovale couldn’t stifle a sigh of loss as Siegfried left his body. He hadn’t come, but it wasn’t as if he hadn’t had pleasure at all. And having Siegfried inside him had been its own kind of rapture. He wasn’t expecting Siegfried to do anything other than pull out and cuddle him (which he would have been pleased with). 

Instead, dauntless Siegfried touched his cock and then, almost before Aglovale was able to think of Siegfried sucking him off, his thoughts and reality merged, and Siegfried’s tongue was pressed against his slit. 

“!!’ He choked back a cry, high and desperate, as his length was engulfed by Siegfried’s mouth. Aglovale couldn’t keep from panting every time Siegfried’s head went down on him. He pressed the back of his hand against his mouth, but still couldn’t keep his voice from coming out in small sobs of pleasure. “Siegfried...!”

That seemed to be as good of an answer as he was going to get. Siegfried’s jaw was aching as he bobbed his head, the heady taste of Aglovale’s skin and precum a strange mix of unpleasant and intoxicating all at once. Once he'd gotten the hang of the whole affair—pulling away slowly while sucking, giving extra attention to the head with his tongue—it was only a matter of time before he saw Aglovale's hips twitching, his entire body shuddering with his coming release. Siegfried reached out to grasp Aglovale's hand, an anchor to hold him down against the surging waves, but he didn’t think far enough ahead to pull away entirely before it happened.

Aglovale panted, lifting his hips to meet Siegfried’s mouth almost without thinking about it. He was close, so close. He pushed at Siegfried’s shoulder weakly to warn him. “Siegfried... I’m already…” 

But Siegfried tangled their fingers together and kept going. The sight of his lips pulling over the head of his cock, those amber eyes looking up at him. He couldn’t hold back any longer, couldn’t draw this moment out even though he dearly wanted to. Aglovale whimpered and then his breathing caught. He gave a deep gasp and came down Siegfried’s throat. “Sieg—!!” 

Siegfried made a small surprised noise as the throbbing of Aglovale's cock gave way to a sudden heat filling his mouth. He kept his gaze fixed on Aglovale, enjoying how he was all but falling apart at the seams, his fingers curling tightly around Siegfried's hand. Eventually, he felt Aglovale slowly coming down from his high. Feeling like there wasn't anything else he could do in this situation, Siegfried swallowed, the strange sticky sensation in his throat making Siegfried pull away and cough while rubbing his jaw.

Breathless, Aglovale watched with a mixture of lust and horror as Siegfried’s throat bobbed. Even more harrowing was the noise of surprise—not disgust—that Siegfried had made. While it had been less messy, Aglovale couldn’t help but feel like it was more work than just finishing himself off. He reached over and pulled Siegfried down in bed next to him, cuddling close to him. He moulded himself to Siegfried’s body, the sweat on their skins sticking them together, and tucked his head under Siegfried’s chin.

It wouldn’t be long before the afterglow lifted. Until then, as a king, he felt entitled to spend as much time as he liked in the arms of his lover.

Siegfried closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around Aglovale, burying his nose in his hair and letting Aglovale melt against him. It felt perfect, and for a moment Siegfried entertained the idea of asking Aglovale to freeze them both, just so they could stay together like this without the world bothering them. Eventually, Siegfried opened his eyes again, and he laughed softly, a deep thrum in his chest.

“...You know, I think a few of your castle guards are going to be winning some _very_ large sums of money after tonight.”

Aglovale opened his eyes slowly and lifted his head to look at Siegfried. His eyes traced the familiar lines of Siegfried's brow, his jaw, his lips, over and over, as if he were still hungry for him. "It would not surprise me," he said, his voice a little hoarse. "They seem to enjoy rumors about my personal life or lack thereof." His eyes settled on Siegfried's lips for a moment and then flitted back up to meet his gaze. "It's good if they can speak the truth, for once." 

Aglovale leaned up and pulled Siegfried into a tender kiss, slow and meandering. He connected their lips over and over again in a dreamlike haze, pulling at Siegfried's lips with his own, only deepening the kiss as he breathed him in, a hand at his jaw. 

Siegfried merely hummed in response, returning Aglovale's kiss with one of his own, savoring the shared warmth between them. He looped a strand of Aglovale's hair in his fingers absentmindedly, then breathed a sigh.

"We should get you cleaned up," he said, reluctantly pushing himself into a sit and attempting to pull up Aglovale with him. Siegfried wasn't entirely sure whether Aglovale intended for him to stay the night, but at least he felt partially responsible for the combined mess he'd made.

Aglovale was just fine lying down and not thinking about the very messy state of his lower half. Siegfried pulling him up made something shift inside him. Siegfried's words about cleaning up—finishing their time together—further shattered his attempts at remaining cocooned in his magical workshop with the man he lo—

The whole scene from before played out in front of him again, the embarrassment from accidentally divulging his feelings to the man about to put his dick inside him, while his fingers were covered in lube. In the ever-colder and clearer light beyond their mutual orgasm, it looked worse and worse. He was going to have to face the reality behind his impulsive words. 

But not right now. Aglovale collapsed back into the bed and laid down behind Siegfried, curling his body around him like some kind of recalcitrant snake who didn't want to be dragged from his den. Even if the thoughts of how dirty he'd gotten with Siegfried _were_ becoming more and more intrusive. 

He laughed, watching Aglovale's face morph from irritation to abject horror to absolute defiance, curled up around him underneath the blankets. Siegfried pat the top of his head, feeling like a mother trying to comfort her son. How unexpectedly cute of Aglovale, though Siegfried chose to keep that little remark to himself.

"Aglovale,” Siegfried chided. “If you don't get out of this bed, I will carry you out there myself, as you are.”

Aglovale lifted his head to tell Siegfried that he was welcome to _try_ to move him, but stopped when he saw movement out of the corner of his eye. Flurries drifted down from a cold winter sky, frosting the muntins and sashes of the windows. It hadn't been going on long—the snow was still light and fluffy—but too much longer and it might be too much snow to leave. 

Aglovale glanced at Siegfried. _He wouldn't leave in the middle of a snowstorm, would he?_ Aglovale wouldn't have to plead with him to stay if they were snowed in. Even rugged outdoorsman Siegfried wouldn't chance leaving the castle in snow like this. Hoping that this would be the case, Aglovale lifted his chin slightly. "After what we've done, suggesting I could stand up at all isn't giving yourself enough credit, Siegfried." 

Siegfried couldn't decide whether to be somewhat proud or exasperated at Aglovale's comment. "Surely you're exaggerating," he said, eventually settling on giving him a wry smile.

Noticing Aglovale's attention was directed elsewhere, Siegfried followed his gaze, looking outside the window. The snow was coming down harder now, nearly reducing the visibility outside to zero. Leaving the castle for the night didn't seem like such a reasonable idea anymore. He looked down at Aglovale, silently gazing up at him while seemingly holding him even more tightly than before. Siegfried sighed, shaking his head as he settled back into bed. _Aglovale can regret his stubbornness in the morning_ , he thought, curling up against his body underneath the covers. He closed his eyes.

Siegfried knew that no matter how much he wished for it, this moment would not last. His duty would call him away to foreign lands once more, just as Aglovale's would draw him back into the burden of rebuilding his country. Whether their eventual parting would be followed by a reunion or not, Siegfried could never promise. 

But at least for this night, in this moment, Siegfried could leave his doubts behind in the midnight snow, in rose-scented skin and Aglovale's fingers laced with his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To everyone who has made it this far: thank you for coming along for this wild ride! This isn't the first time Tigerine and I have roleplayed together but this was our first time with this ship and it's been a very fun experience to figure out these dumb 32 year old ossans while also editing this to be more readable for AO3.
> 
> P.S. There's a new RP currently in the works... Stay tuned!


End file.
